A silent symphony
by Draguna Doragon
Summary: a new teacher for a new subject comes to hogwarts, and before hand, all the teachers rile Snape up by telling him to be 'nice' to her. this just makes him want to be snarky with her, and doesnt expect the reaction he gets. Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter one.

_Dear Mss Consensio, Wales, the south, under the willow tree by the river._

_As you will know, you have recently applied for a new teaching position at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am very please to inform you that you have been accepted to fill this post, and you may arrive as soon as you see fit to, as long as you arrive a week at least before the start of term. _

_I speak for the rest of the staff here, in saying we are all eager to meet with you. Your résumé was very colourful and extensive with praises, and you will make a very interesting and excellent addition to the staff of Hogwarts. _

_From one who is looking forward to welcoming you with open arms into the Hogwarts family, and speaking to you of your dear father._

_Headmaster and Professor Albus Dumbledore._

"There, that will do I believe." Albus folded the letter and slipped it inside the envelope. With a wave of his wand, the Hogwarts seal, sealed the back of the envelope in blood red wax, and he looked up to the table. He had previously approved the letter and acceptance of the applicant with all but one of the teachers of all faculties.

The 'but one' had seen the appointment of any teacher that was not himself a waist of his time to take part in, and so was always absent at these meetings. Although he was very displeased with the latest addition of the faculty, or, an old addition returned. Professor Remus Lupin had returned to once more take up position of Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, to the disgust of the absent party, and was actually sat at the right of the headmaster now. "Are we all in agreeance?"

"Yes headmaster." Remus said softly with a smile.

"Yes we are." Minerva added, and the rest of the table nodded with a mutter of yeses, then grew quite. Albus nodded with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Then we shall soon be able to welcome a new face and name to our growing family here. And we shall have to look out for her."

"As long as she learns to steer clear of the dungeons then she will be just fine." Firenze whinnied slightly with distaste. "Being unable to climb the stairs, I happened to walk my way into the 'potions master's domain'. Never been so willing to leave a place in my entire existence."

"I am sure Severus will adjust accordingly if given the chance."

"This y second time here headmaster, and he has still to 'adjust accordingly'. Severus us Severus. He will never change." Lupin chuckled. "And how many chanced is this now?"

"I counted 509." Flitwhick chuckled with him, and then Albus smiled regardless.

"Some boys need understanding people to look out for them. Like poor Severus."

"_Poor_ Severus?" Lupin chuckled. "James would have laughed so hard at that." His smiled softened. "As would Sirius."

"Well, I shall send this off then." A large barn owl swooped in and landed before him. "Take this swiftly my friend, as I feel the reciprocate of this letter, will be eager to receive it." The bird simply hooted, before taking off. "And I hope she will come soon. Term starts in three weeks."

"I am sure she will headmaster." Minerva stood first. "Well, I have a new year of lesson plans to gather together, now that we have another subject in the syllabus."

"Though it is important."

"Indeed. Saves me having to fumble over the subject. I am useless at that sort of thing I'm afraid." He stood also, and slowly the teachers made there way out of the headmaster's office. Albus sat back and looked to the same window where his owl had flown out of with his letter. He thought of the young wizard he taught over 30 years ago. To think, he was gone now. Died of most tragic circumstances.

But on the bright side, as Albus always liked to place himself, his pride and joy daughter would be coming back to where her father was most at home, and teaching, like he had always _wanted_ to do. He would have to watch over her though, as she was certainly a very special kind of witch. Very sensitive too.

But all he could do now was wait. Wait, and pray that she comes as soon as possible, to ensure her safety…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I don't see why _I_ am here."

"Oh don't sulk boy. You would think you were one of the students."

"Well I am not. I am the -"

"Potions Master and do not forget it. Yes Professor, we know. Now, I have something I need to say to you." Minerva cursed herself. She hadn't got something she needed to say to him, she had something she _had_ to _tell_ him. Before Potions Master Severus Snape stormed into the staff room in his usual moody manner, they had all drawn straws. And she had drawn the short one. While she sat with him, everyone else pretended to be engrossed in either their issue of the _prophet_, or their cups of tea. But they were all listening.

"Well?"

"Well we have a new teacher arriving today. And _I_ am concerned, with a few others…" she gave a death glare to a chuckling Lupin. This had been _his_ idea after all. "That you will be less than polite to our new member of the faculty."

"Me? Less than polite? Surely you jest." He rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"This is what I mean Severus." He gave her a look. "I mean Snape."

"Better."

"We are colleagues. You are permitted to call me Minerva, yet you don't."

"It is called professional courtesy, _McGonagall_."

"It's down right rude is what it is." She stopped herself and took a deep breath. "But that is beside the point."

"And what is this _point_ you are trying to prove?"

"The point is, you are going to be purposely unpleasant to this girl from the moment she walks through that door. Aren't you?" she stated more than asked.

"Perhaps." He looked away, as if bored by her.

"I knew it. I knew you would be. You have no intention on being pleasant to this girl, do you?"

"If I said yes…"

"You would be lying."

"Then no."

"Snape!"

"Would you have preferred me to lie, and say yes, or tell the truth, and say no?"

"I would have preferred you to be civil with her. She is new and new ones haven't lasted very long here in a long time. With our track record of teachers. The last thing we need is for you to scare her off, and have us black marked as a hazardous place to work. She is our last chance to make the prophet, and the rest of the Wizarding community, that we are a safe, well functioning place to work and learn." She folded her arms very Snape like. "Not have the first outsider to come in, be scared off by 'The Potions master'."

"I will do my best."

"You didn't mean that."

"No, I didn't." she sighed with both frustration, and despair. "Did you expect something along the lines of 'I will be really, really nice to the punk kid the educational section of the new ministry have sent to be part of our 'little family', and not be mean at all.' Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Perhaps, if you had meant it." She sighed, this time with defeat. "I have tried. Just…think about it."

"I will think of nothing else." He rolled his eyes, and stood up with her. Minerva moved to sit with her colleagues to discus her failure with Snape, or, 'mister up his own ass, antisocial bastard' as some of the students called him. And Lupin.

While Snape walked over to the other side of the staff room, and pulled a flask from the inside of his robes. It wasn't as if he had taken up Mad eye Moody's drinking habit or anything, but he liked a swig of whiskey whenever he was feeling stressed.

The first day of term and already he was having Minerva after him. The reason he had brushed her off so quickly, is because he had already had a longer, 5 hour version of that talk the day before.

With Dumbledore.

Show manners, he says, be pleasant, he says. _How about I introduce her to my collection of Paroxysm potions instead._ He smirked evilly, as he took a mouthful of strong firewhiskey. Then, Dumbledore walked in, and everyone looked to him.

"Welcome, welcome. As you all know, today is the first day of term, and the day our new teacher will finally arrive. Her passport was lifted by a Muggle, so she had to wait until it was returned. It wasn't hard." He chuckled. "After seeing that the stolen passport moved and he letters seemed to dance around the pages, the Muggle thief soon tried to dispose of it. That is how the Ministry officials were able to retrieve it, as the Muggle tried to burn it." He chuckled again. "It is very lucky that Wizarding passports are flame proof, is it not?"

"Yes headmaster." Minerva smiled, glad to have him here. Talking to Snape had greatly depressed her. "And speaking of our new blood, where is she?"

"Lost hopefully." Snape muttered, and Minerva gave him a dead eye.

"Now see here _Professor Snape._ Mss Consensio happens to be the next in line to take over head of Gryffindor house. So I will be looking out for the poor dear. And I suggest you are more civil, as she will be attending all meetings regarding the houses from here in."

"Great." He said snarkily, and wore his usual scowl.

"Well." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Yes, yes true. Professor Consensio will be the _future_ head of Gryffindor house, but firstly, a teacher here. And so, we must treat her as such." He looked over his half moon spectacles at Snape. "Right Severus my boy?" Snape didn't reply, and simply looked out of the window in a bored fashion. "But back to what you first asked Minerva." He said on a brighter note. "Mss Consensio will be arriving in time for the great feast today. She will be arriving on the Hogwarts express along with the students."

"She might be mistaken for one of the students." Snape snickered to himself, but Lupin's keen hearing picked it up.

"I think not Severus ol' boy." He chuckled. "I have seen her. She is _no_ mere girl." Snape raised a brow, and was about to retort to him, when Lupin stood up. "And I believe I will have to go with Hagrid this evening to collect her, right Headmaster?"

"Yes Remus, that would be good of you."

"No problem." He smiled, and began to walk out. "I could meet Tonks at the station…" he walked out the door, in his own world, as others stood.

"We shall all meet together in the great hall in a few hours, yes?"

"Indeed Headmaster." Flitwick nodded, and shuffled his way out. Snape waited until everyone but Dumbledore had left, and made his way to the door.

"Oh, and Severus?" he scowled at the door, and looked over his shoulder at his headmaster. "Remember what we spoke of. I happen to have met this girl in her younger days. She is rather-"

"Sensitive, yes, you have said." _At least a million times_.

"Good, now, let us speak of better things." Dumbledore wore his sweet smile, and put his hand on the dark teacher's shoulder. "I hope to see you taking up my offer of teaching an after hours class. It doesn't have to be potions either."

"Then you will be disappointed, sir." He added and shrugged him off. "I will be in my quarters until it is time for the feast.

"Very well boy." He chuckled. "And until it is time for you to meet our new teacher."

"Yes, I am _delighted_." He growled and mumbled to himself all the way back to the dungeons. He sank into his comfy chair by an already roaring fire, and conjured a bottle of whiskey to his waiting hand. "I will be _delighted _if she slips on the platform steps and breaks her ankle. Or her back, I am not fussy." He sipped his drink. "As long as everyone will stop talking about her, I will be fine. You would think she is something special." He remembered when they went over her profile.

Well, he did in his quarters, as Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to owl it to him. "20 years old, a mere girl herself. Pah." He put his bottle and glass down, to resist getting plastered before the great feast. "Even _I_ was 30 before I started." He thought to himself. "At least I am not a Muggle. At the age of 37, I would look half dead by now." He smirked, glad of the perks of being a wizard. Wizards and witches live far longer than Muggles. He still looks in his late 20's, where muggles his age would looked nearer to 40.

Snape straightened off his usual attire of black, almost demonic robes that made him look like a dungeon vampire. Oddly enough, that is a question all the first years always ask after having him for potions. 'sir, are you a vampire?'.

He remembered the last one who said that, and he said yes. That was, until the little brat ran off to their head of house, Minerva of all people, and cried their eyes out. He had to then give him a detention and explain to him the differences between vampires and humans. He then gave the brat another detention, and made him clean out _all_ the cauldrons with his bare hands, no magic.

But Snape had to admit, to himself, that it was more than amusing seeing the boy walk all around the class room to avoid him, with a scarf tightly around his neck.

He folded his arms, and looked over to the mirror. _I really need a hair cut._ His hair had grown very long over the holidays; it now came half way down between his shoulders, and elbows. At for once, the sign that he hadn't taught over a dozen smouldering, sizzling or smoking cauldrons yet, his hair was soft and clean. He placed his wand in his inner robe pocket, and scowled. There was _no way_ he was going to tie his hair back in a bobble, like a girl, but he had his mane of jet black hair down his back. He was a long haired man, great.

He walked out of his quarters, and waved his hand. The door locked, and he made his way to the great hall.

The trains will have arrived already, so he didn't have to worry about being asked to 'help the newbie' by an eager Minerva.

So he made his way to the great hall, and pushed the doors open. He made his usual dramatic entrance, with all the first years seated away from the house tables, shivering at the mere sight of him. This made an evil smirk cross his features, as he took his place at the main table. He said one from the end on the left to onlookers, the right to the centre chair. The chair, where Dumbledore sat. or now stood, as he held his goblet up in the air.

"Now that all are here, we may welcome the new ones amongst us. First of all, I say welcome to the new students, who shall soon join their new friends and families in one of four houses. Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. And secondly, I welcome a new teacher here, called Mss-" then, the doors slammed open and in came three running figured. Snape raised his eyes from his nails to the three. One was large, wore a large brown coat with a black beard.

Hagrid.

The second was greasier than he even he was, and had rotting yellow teeth.

Filch

But they were chasing someone, who was running towards the table. At the last moment, they tripped over their own hooded cloak, and landed in a heap on all fours before the headmaster.

"Got you!" Filch ran round Hagrid, and grabbed their arms. He pinned them behind their back, very painfully from the look of it, and they arched their head back. This let Hagrid come up behind them, and grab the top of the hood.

Snape's fingers around his wand were still tight, a habit from darker times in his life.

"Now, let's see whose under 'ere." Hagrid pulled the hood back, and there was a gasp.

Snape couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The hood fell back, and long curly locks of golden hair bounced with life, falling forward from the hood. Her hair covered one eye, leaving only one brilliant emerald eye to scan the table franticly for someone. Her skin was a healthy peach, and her rose lips were parted as she panted. It was obvious that she had been running for quite a while. Filch yanked the cloak from her, and Snape saw more. She was very young, her shapely figure showing that much at the least. Her clothing consisted of a long green gypsy skirt, covering even her feet. She wore a black corset over a white off the shoulder gypsy shirt, with bit baggy sleeves but drawn together around her wrists. The ends of her cuffs were frilly, as was the low semi circle neck of her off the shoulder shirt.

She looked very much like a gypsy, in clothing, and the way she moved. Her body language was withdrawn, cautious, but most of all frightened. "No wand." Filch used a sensor over her, and nodded. "I can't find one. But she knew how to get here, so she _is_ a witch." He threw the cloak at Hagrid, as he took her wrists again behind her back. She looked in pain from his manhandling, but she made no sound.

Snape had to admire that, not giving in to pain. And her one visible green eye never left Albus.

"Argus!" Dumbledore's sudden roar made everyone, even Snape jump. He was furious, but why? Albus was never furious. "I did not accept your application to prolong your position here, to be a ruffian towards other members of staff!"

"…other…members of…staff?" he jumped back, as if the new woman had burnt him. "But, but she wouldn't tell us the password, she wouldn't tell us who she was, or why she was here, or-"

"Well now I am _telling_ you, that this is our new teacher." Albus turned to the woman, as she brushed herself off. "I apologise my dear. Please, your seat is at the end of the table." He indicated the forever spare space next to Snape, and Severus looked to Albus with a look of outrage. "I apologise again." But the blonde haired woman nodded with a smile, obviously not one for grudges, and walked with what little dignity she had left to her seat. "Now, if you don't mind returning to your duties, and if you Rubeus will take your rightful place at the teacher's table, we shall begin the sorting." Filch quickly ran off, and the sorting began.

She couldn't believe it. She got off he train like she was told to, at Hogwarts, only for two of the staff members to chase her through school. They wanted to keep her on the damn train and send her back! How rude!

Luckily she slipped past them both, an amazing feat from the size of the Care of magical creatures teacher, and ran through the school. She knew if she found Albus, she would be alright. And sure enough, she was.

She looked to the man she was sat next to, and then snapped her eyes away from him. He had been looking at her, with his dark eyes. He had also turned away upon being caught staring, so when she looked back, he wasn't looking.

She looked over his long raven black hair, it looked like a soft silk, and she wanted to just reach out and touch it. His skin was very pale though, and he wore a lot of black. Everything was black other than the briefest bit of white on his cuffs. Her long golden hair still naturally curled to cover her right eye, and she leaned over the table, to get a better look at him. She saw he had a strong nose, and defined facial features. You wouldn't go forgetting his face just like that. His body looked lean and he defiantly had strong, muscular arms.

She saw him raise a black eyebrow, and his face started to turn towards her.

She quickly looked down at her empty silver plate, and placed her hands on her skirt, over her knees.

"So we have a gypsy for a teacher this year." His voice was rich, yet ice cold. It made her shiver slightly. "Why not, we already have a werewolf." He remarked, and looked her up and down. Although her shoulderless top covered her breasts, they still bulged out her top. He being a man with straight tendencies, had to mentally smack himself for looking at her bust, before looking up again. Luckily for him, she hadn't even looked up from her plate yet. He waited, and she still said nothing. "I am Professor Snape, the potions master." _There, I was polite. My part is done._ He waited, but she simply looked to his chest, not to his face, smiled sweetly, nodded, and returned to looking at her plate. "Did you hear me?" she nodded. "Then perhaps you might find the decency to reply when I am talking to you." He said even colder than before, and she even flinched from his tone of voice. But she still said nothing. "Who are you?" he decided he didn't like her. She didn't even have the grit about her to look him in the eye, or even speak to him.

_Him_, Severus Snape, the snarky bastard himself was trying to be 'civil', and she was ignoring him!

That was the point, where civil, went out the window. "Or perhaps gypsies only talk when you shove silver into their hands. Or don't you understand me? I always thought gypsies were illiterate, uneducated vermin. I bet you are not even a witch. Parlour tricks perhaps? Is that your new post here? To teach false, Muggle magic?" she tensed, and looked away from him. She looked hurt, but still she didn't reply to him. He snarled and sat back in his chair. "Pathetic." He spat at her, and then looked to the hall.

The students were now sorted, and Dumbledore waved his hand. Food immediately appeared on everyone's plates and the students dug in like feeding time at the zoo. Severus cut a piece off his steak, and looked over to the new teacher.

She hadn't touched her food.

She looked ridged, terrified.

He thought she might have been stupefied from how still she was. "Are you alright? You look a little pale." But he didn't sound concerned.

That was it; she stood up and made a swift walk towards the doors. Snape raised a brow, and watched her leave. Before she vanished through the doors, he saw her bring the back of her hand over her eyes. _She was crying? What is wrong with her?_ He rolled his eyes, and began to eat his meal. However, he got an elbow in his side from Minerva when he was done, and he looked up into her furiously beedy eyes.

"Now was there any need for that?"

"She was rude to me first. I had every intention and even implemented the act of 'shivery' and was a perfect gentleman. She shunned me first, and so I reverted to acting like myself."

"You fools Severus." She shuck her head, and still too angry to speak, turned away from him.

Albus had also seen, and sent a requesting look at Lupin. He was on the very end of the other side of the table, and he nodded. He soon left, and Snape saw this. He 'humphed' and drank his wine. _Serves her right. I was civil with her, she wanted to be rude with me. I just gave her more of her own medicine than she could handle._ He smirked, and licked his lips. _Well, she wants to be curt with me, I will show her curt. I will make her regret ever coming here. _He smirked, and turned to Albus, who started another speech.

Remus looked around after closing the doors to the hall, and couldn't see anyone. But it was only two weeks from the next full moon, so his hearing and werewolf senses had already started to pick up. He could smell distress and tears. He turned right, towards the entrance hall, and followed the soft whimpering noises. Soon, he came to the main stair case, and saw a blonde haired girl on the steps. He thought it was a girl, as she was sat on the bottom step, her arms folded over her knees, that were against her chest, and her long golden hair fanned over her head and arms like a perfect veil.

"Hello?" he spoke softly, and slowly approached her. She gasped and snapped up.

He then saw the girl, was very much a woman, with red cheeks and tears falling silently down her face. She looked shocked to see him, and then looked to her knees. "My Name is Professor Lupin. I teach Defence against the dark arts." He sat next to her, like he did when he found James sulking over Lily somewhere in school. Here was one of those places, actually. Just during the day.

But it was very late now, and the half moonlight shining through the high windows on the scene, was the only light. "But please, call me Remus." He smiled, and held his hand out to her. She looked at it, smiled, and took it gratefully. "So, why are such tears on such a pretty face?" she smiled, and chuckled silently. She pulled out a pad and paper from her sleeve, and a quill from the other. Lupin watched her curiously, until she handed him the pad with writing on it.

_I have just met the potions master._

"Ah, well. Then I totally understand." He chuckled. "He can be quite harsh. To everyone. All the time. Without fail." She chuckled again, and wrote more on the pad. Whipping away another tear as she did.

_He is like no one else I have ever met._ She sniffled, and he read on. _No one has been able to upset me so much before._

"He has a knack for that." He then looked at her curiously, but glad she was smiling. "But may I ask, why are you replying with a quill and pad, and not just telling me?" she looked at him for a moment, before smiling. She put her hand on her throat, and shuck her head. "I don't understand." She then placed her right palm up, and clicked with the other hand. A long roll of parchment appeared in her hand, and he looked for a wand. He found none. "That was impressive." She nodded thanks, and passed him the parchment. He read it over, and made an 'ah' sound of understanding. "I see, you literally _can't_ speak. I apologise." She shuck her head and held her hands up. "But I should have deducted that myself. I mean." He chuckled. "Never mind."

At last, Severus Snape was able to leave the great hall before everyone else, and make his way to the dungeons. To do this, he had to go to the main entrance, and then go down to his 'domain' as he called it in his mind. As no one else ruled there. He heard voices however, and decided to listen in. he soon heard that infuriatingly cheerful chuckle of the wolf boy, and a shine of gold. He walked near the stairs, and used a spell to conceal himself from the werewolf's senses. "But I should have deducted that myself. I mean." He chuckled. "Never mind." Snape raised brow, and saw the scene playing out between two stone bars of the stair case. "So, what is your name?" she pointed to the top of the paper. "Oh yes, Mss Procella Consensio. May I call you Procella?" she nodded. "Well, Procella. I will walk you to your quarters. They are on the ground level, as is your office and private quarters. But don't worry, no students will come near there." She smiled and he hooked her arm with his. "And as for that greasy git Severus." She rolled her eyes. "Remember not to go near him or talk to him, and you will be fine. Alright?" she nodded politely, but Snape became infuriated.

_So it was Lupin who told her to remain silent near me. Was that their plan, to prevent her from enduring me? Well, we shall soon see about that. I will **force** her to speak with me, even if I have to enrage her, or intoxicate her with one of my potions to do it._ He watched as Lupin walked her to the left, away from the dungeons, and down near his own quarters. He didn't know why, but just seeing Lupin holding her arm and laughing with her like that, made an angry monster in his chest snarl for him to rip them apart.

But he didn't.

Instead, he went his own way to his quarters, to rest for the next day of lessons.

He would deal with _her_ later.

_Procella, that is Latin. I will soon find out what for…and I will break you before you know what hit you. You little wench…Procella._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 

"Now don't worry. You have the 7th years first today, and they may _look_ like they bite." Procella smiled; glad he was walking her to her first lesson. Other than having a box of tissues by her bed (now an ex box of tissues), she went through her lessons plans. But all that did was make her even more nervous. So nervous, that Prof Lupin found her pacing outside her own door, shaking like a shivering mess. Luckily for her, her room was only down the hall from his quarters. He now had one arm hooked with hers, coaxing her on as he walked her to her classroom. "But I am sure that they will adopt you possibly as quickly as we teachers have." She smiled and mouthed 'thank you'. "Well, here we are. And be careful, this classroom is on the ground level…and directly opposite the door to the dungeons." She raised a brow. "Where potions is taught." She gulped, and he gave her hand a squeeze. "But don't worry. Snape can't hurt you in your own classroom. Now, off you go. And have fun." He pushed her back and gave her a helping 'push' into the classroom.

Procella gulped as she saw she had a very large class first thing.

_Oh great, my first ever class has to be the ones with Slytherins__in it. Well, at least I have the Gryffindors too. They will be my house one day, from what Dumbledore said to me._ She wore a brave smile and made her way through the desks to hers. Today she wore a long another off the shoulders, frilly white gypsy shirt, with a fashion black corset over that, and over a long black gypsy skirt today. Her hair was tied back with a black ribbon in a low ponytail, but her side parting made her curly fringe cover her right eye even now. It would never go back. She scanned the room with her emerald eye, and smiled to her students. Procella opened her arms, and curtsied to them all. The red half (to her left) smiled welcomingly to her, as the green side (to her right) snickered and found her a joke.

She saw a hand rise up on the red and black side, and she nodded to her.

This girl was very pretty, and had a mane of long, bushy brown hair and hazel eyes.

"I'm Hermione Granger. Please Mss, are you our new teacher." She nodded, and flicked her hand at a blank black board. It span on it's hinges like a cat flat, and then stopped. Now large white writing was neatly scrawled on it, and the class were amazed.

Where was her wand?

Procella pointed to Hermione, and then to the board. "Should I read it Mss?" she nodded. Hermione cleared her throat, and began. "I am your new teacher, Professor Consensio. I will be teaching you from now on." The writing vanished, and more appeared. "I bet you are wondering how I am able to write on the board, with no wand." Procella looked to the windows, and waved the back of her left had at them. The curtains flew open, and light shone inside. "I can do this, as I am using wandless, non verbal magic." A boy with ginger red hair put his hand up. Procella sat on the front of her desk, and crossed one leg elegantly over the other. She pointed to him, and smiled.

"Erm miss, I thought we covered that in Defence against the dark arts." She waved her response onto the black board.

_Because of certain events, it is now necessary for non verbal magic to be a subject in it's own. It has now been added to the syllabus, with a new teacher._ Procella smiled and pointed to herself.

"Please Professor." Hermione asked again. "Is that why you aren't talking? As a demonstration?" she nodded, and then shuck her head. "I don't understand." She chuckled, and then picked up a folder from her desk. She opened it up, and pulled out the first sheet. Another wave of her hand, and the first spell hit the board with a puff of chalk.

_Wingardium Leviosa. _

There were groans of 'but we did that in the first year' and 'I hate that spell'. She flicked her fingers this time, and a Slytherin boy rose up from his seat.

"PUT ME DOWN!"

"Look at him, Malfoy, touch the ceiling!" Zabini called out, and everyone snickered.

"That will teach you to be cocky with the new teacher." Hermione smiled, like this was a justice, and Procella stood before the levitating boy's desk. She waved a hand at the board, and the boy looked at it.

"YES! Yes I am sorry, now put me down!" she waited. "Please?" and with a thud, and of course a click of her fingers, the platinum blonde hared boy fell back into his seat. "I'm telling my head of house about this!" she rolled her eyes. "Snape will have her." He muttered, but she froze. She had heard him, and thought back to the horrid man in the great hall.

"Professor?" a boy with a lighting scar on his forehead, and glasses reached out and touched her arm. This brought her back to reality, and she masked her fear with a smile. She then returned to her desk, and sat at her chair this time. She looked to the either excited and eager, or the disgruntled. She looked over them, and looked to the boy who had touched her arm. He was very tall, hat jet black hair and kind eyes. And yet he looked strong and worldly for his age. Then she looked to his scar, and knew who he was. _Harry Potter, in my class. Wow._ She then smiled even brighter, and beckoned him close with her finger. She then looked to Malfoy, and around the other Slytherins. She found large plump looking boy. He was sat next to the blonde boy (who was still scowling) and looked as brain dead as a doornail. She beckoned him over too.

Both boys stood before then front desk, and looked at each other with resentment. _Not friends then._ She rolled her eyes, and stood up. She looked to a quill, and it suddenly became animated with life. It scribbled over a piece of parchment, and then the paper slid over the table to them.

_Names please?_

"Crab." The dense one answered.

"I'm Harry." He answered, and was glad when she didn't goggle at him. She just smiled and nodded. She raised both hands before them, and her palms faced up. "What are you going to do Professor?" she winked, and rose both hands. Both boys gasped and yelped as they hovered off the ground. Not as high as Malfoy, that had been a 'don't talk in class' penalty, where this was participation. "Wow." Harry beamed. "How are you doing that?"

"Wandless magic." Procella lowered them to their feet, and looked to the new voice.

Albus Dumbledore stood in the doorway, with his eyes looking over his half moon spectacles. "And Professor Consensio is rather good at it." Hermione roe her hand up, and he nodded to her.

"Please sure, why can't Professor Consensio talk?" everyone was quite, surprised by this bold question.

"It is not that she _can't_ talk." He smiled. "It is just lucky for us she _won't._"

"What do you mean by that sir?" Procella clapped her hands, to get their attention.

"Yes, Professor Consensio is quite right. This is a lesson after all." He lingered on Hermione. "If I remember correctly, you figured out the secret of our DADA teacher, this should be no challenge for you either." He looked back to Procella. "I am sorry for the intrusion, but I have wanted to se your magic in action. Forgive my curiosity." She smiled and shuck her head. She waved her hand at the board.

_Not a problem._

_Now class, we shall be learning how to perform this simple spell._ She walked over to the board, and flipped it. _Without the use of a wand. So put them away._ There were some complaints, but they obeyed. Harry returned to the front, eager to precipitate again. She smiled at this, and stood next to him. Procella put her hand out like she was going to shake hands with no one in particular, and looked to Harry. He copied her, and watched her hand. She then looked to a quill on his desk, and flicked the ends of her fingers at it. The quill rose up, and became level with her hand. She lowered it to the desk, and then looked to Harry. He nodded, and focused on the same quill.

"Alright." He muttered, concentrating. He flicked his hand, but nothing happened. He tried again, more vigorously, but still nothing happened. "Damn." She wrote down on a pad, and held it in his eye line.

_Say the spell in your mind, will the quill to move._ He nodded, and tried again. At one point it looked like it jerked to the side, but didn't rise up.

Procella saw he was getting frustrated with his failure, so she put her hand on his shoulder. She smiled, and nodded. Harry sighed and gave up. She egged the class into clapping, and half of them did. He returned to his seat, and the red head and Hermione gave him the thumbs up. Then, Procella sat by her desk, and again waved her hand at the board.

_Your homework will be to practise this spell, and demonstrate one by one in the next lesson. You may use the remainder of the hour to practise now if you would like. If not, I have some work for you to get on with._ She smiled when they all decided to practise instead of work.

She smiled like a proud mother as they all picked inanimate objects like quills, ink pots; pieces of paper, and one person even chose their own shoe.

But none of them were able to levitate their object, but she smiled at their effort.

Even Malfoy was trying hard.

Then the bell went, and she watched them all leave.

All, but three.

"Professor, do you just teach our year, the last year? We learnt some basic Wandless magic last year in DADA. Will we just have you know? Or will the 6th years have you too?" she chuckled, and wrote down her reply.

_Both years Ms Granger._

"And when else will we have you Mss?" Harry asked with a blush, and the red head boy elbowed him and snickered softly. Procella lifted her hand up, and her lesson planner appeared on her hand.

"Did you Accio that professor?" Hermione asked, and she nodded. She opened the book up, slightly larger than a diary, and pushed it towards them.

"Well Harry, you have her for one hour first on Monday, one on Tuesday third, none on Wednesday, two on Thursday first and second, and two forth and fifth on Friday." He chuckled at the shade of which Harry had gone. "Lucky you." Harry then elbowed his friend hard behind him, and spoke to distract her from what he had done.

"SO." He chuckled weakly. "I will see you period three tomorrow, Mss." Hermione rolled her eyes, and dragged a winded boy back, muttering 'stupid boys' and 'serves you right Ron'. Harry blushed as he realised his friends had left him. "I'll see you then." He squeaked slightly, and walked out quickly.

Procella chuckled to herself and lifted up her planner.

She had no more lessons until first thing tomorrow, with the 6th year students.

_So I have the rest of the day to myself._ She huffed. _What do I do now?_ She gathered her things, smiling that her lesson hadn't been as bad as she thought it would have been, and walked out of her classroom. But upon looking over the entrance hall to the dungeon entrance, she froze.

"_I'm telling my head of house about this!"_

Snape.

He was going to tell Snape.

_Oh don't be silly Procella._ She told herself. _He won't care about one student being told off by another teacher surely._ She gulped. _Right?_

She looked to the stairs, and quickly made her way up them, as if afraid the potions master was going to storm after her at any moment.

Procella smiled as she looked into a class window, and saw her new friend Professor Lupin. He was chuckling with the 6th years as they ran after a rouge Grindlylow. They were getting close too. He then looked up and saw her.

"Excuse me class. And Ginny, please reframe from jinxing the poor thing. Catch it literally." He chuckled, and walked towards the door. "Now if I didn't know better, I would say you are board." He chuckled, and smiled at her. She pouted, and nodded. "Well, usually you grade papers in your free time or projects. But as you don't have any yet, I suppose your time is your own." She sighed. "Don't know what to do with yourself, ay?" Procella shuck her head. "Mmmm…I suppose you could ask Dumbledore for more lessons or more duties. It can get a little glum here if you don't have something to do or entertain yourself with." He chuckled as she nodded, whimpering her boredom. "I think Albus is in his office." She nodded, and mouthed 'thanks'. "Now Ms Weasley, what did I say about jinxing him?" she chuckled and walked off to the stair case again.

It took her a few stops and retakes, but she soon found her way to the headmaster's office.

There, she faced a large eagle statue. She knocked on it's head, but nothing happened.

"You know, there is a password." Procella turned and locked her emerald eye on a set of magenta ones. "It's lemon bon-bons." And the eagle reclined to reveal the stair case. "I am Nymphadora Tonks. The resident Aura. And your name is?" Procella waved her hand over her chest, and a Muggle like round red badge appeared. It had 'Professor Consensio' in shiny silver writing on it. "Ah, so you are the new teacher. The non verbal magics one, right?" she nodded. "Well, that explains the not being able to say the password problem." She chuckled. This woman had shoulder length, bubblegum pink hair that flicked out in a feather fashion at the ends. Her eyes were a soft magenta, her skin peachy, and her clothes as outrageous as her hair. High heel witch ankle shoes, both legs were inside black and pink Denis the menace leg socks, she had a short black shirt to above her knees, a plain black belt, a pink work shirt with no sleeves, and a long black robe that didn't fasten at the front. But that was over one of her arms. She looked in her mid to late 20's, and smiled at her. "I would tell you to call me Tonks, but I don't think that will matter, will it?" Procella chuckled with her. "Now, why don't you just come with me?" she hooked her arm, taking Procella by surprise. "I'll look out for you. It's nice to find someone here around my own age and gender." She giggled, and led her up the spiral stair case to the head office.

Tonks dragged her down to sit next to her before Dumbledore, who was shocked to see them both. "Good morning Headmaster."

"Indeed it is Nymphadora. But may I ask why I have the pleasure of both yourself, _and_ professor Consensio?"

"Well, I'm here to report that I have done a sweep of the perimeter and everything is clear. That, and all the sensor spells and precautions are all in working order."

"Excellent."

"But as for Professor Consensio, I have no idea. But I think you will have to do something about the means of coming up here. As my file on her shows, she _can't say_ the password to get up here. So if she needed you, she would be stuck now wouldn't she?"

"Indeed she would. I see that an alternative means of entrance will be needed. Very well." He turned to Procella. "And why have I been graced with your presence? I trust your first class was not too hectic for you, was it?" she shuck her head with a smile. She then closed her eyes, and put on hand on Tonks' shoulder.

"No, they were lovely." Tonks gasped and looked to Procella. "Did you just make me say that?" she nodded. "Oh, well, go ahead." She said boldly. "I trust you." "Thank you Ms Tonks. I hope you will be able to call me Procella, and not by my title." "Oh, thank you."

"As glad I am that you are making friends…it is a little odd hearing you talk to yourself Nymphadora. As it seems."

"Oh, sorry. Go ahead Procella." She smiled and looked to Dumbledore. "I came to request that you give me another duty. I seem to have less lessons than the other professors here, and too much free time. In fact, I have no other obligations today. I will be bored to tears if I am not given something to do in such times."

"I see." He ran a hand over his beard. "Well, I suppose I could give you another duty. I don't know whether this duty would suit you however…" Procella raised a brow, but looked to him eagerly. "Well, we have a number of balls or 'dances' this year. The Yule balls seemed to have spurred on the popularity of such events, and we shall be having one each holiday. The nearest one is the Valentines day, then Easter, Halloween, and of course Christmas. All these dances will need a great deal of organisation, and if you would like to, Professor McGonagall has expressed the desire for assistance with her essential dance lessons. Would you be interested?"

"Yes I would. I would love that." Procella smiled, and turned to face Tonks. "I am grateful that you have allowed me to use your voice like this. Thank you." "No problem Procella. I have your file, remember? I know all about your 'little problem'." She giggled, and Procella slipped her hand back. "But I would like to know where you learnt to do that. Was that a mild case of possession?" she nodded. "Wow…you're gonna have to teach me how to-"

"If you young women have finished with me." He smiled, and they got the message. They both stood, and Tonks hooked her arm again.

"We'll be back when needed headmaster. And don't worry, I'll look out for our newest family member." She chuckled and started to lead her out the office. "Good bye!"

"Farewell. I shall see you in the great hall at dinner."

"You sure will!" Tonks led her down the stairs, but noticed the blank look on her face. "What's wrong?" she looked around, and looked to Tonks. She then beckoned her to follow her, and led her all the way through school until they were in an empty classroom. She then sat her down, and looked her directly in her eyes. "Wow…what are you…doing…to…to…to……"

_I have accessed you mind. _

_Really?_

_Yes, silly_. She chuckled.

_So you are in my mind?_

_Yes._

…_what's it like?_

_Very colourful._ Tonks beamed at this, and looked to her. _Do you really trust me that much, so quickly, that you let me use your voice, and not enter your mind?_

_Yes. _ She didn't say anything for a while, blinked, and then smiled.

_That is good. Because I trust you to._

_On your file though, it didn't say you could perform Legilimency._

_Is that bad?_

_No, I will just have to add it. That's all. _

_Very well. But I need to connect with you._

_Why?_

_As you know, I cant talk. So, if I connect to you, I can simply speak to you like this. It is much easier than getting my damn paper and writing down all the time._

_Go on then. _

_Bare with me. This will feel odd for you._ Tonks shuddered. She could have sworn she felt a pair of cold hands on her brain, holding it slightly. _There, I have connected to you._

_That was…odd…_

_I apologise. _

_Don't, I prefer to talk to you than not._ She giggled. They sat on a desk each, opposite and chuckling. They would look quite odd if anyone walked in, just looking at each other like in deep conversation, with no sound. _So, why were you looking so glum before? _Then, an image hit her so hard, she fell off the table with a jolt.

_Are you alright!_

_Yes…but I never want to be that close to Snape ever again._ Tonks rubbed her rump before sitting down again.

It was unbelievable.

Tonks felt for that brief moment, that she was sat right next to the gloomy Severus Snape, with him glowering at her.

And she felt fear, and hurt from his razor tongue. "Bastard." She looked to Procella. "Was that what happened? Did he hurt you?"

_Yes, verbally…he was so awful…I felt so small…_ she looked to her lap.

"Oh don't worry." Tonks gave up thinking her reply, feeling it to be more natural to just talk. "I will sit with Snape, and you can sit with Remus. He saved me a seat, but you can have it."

_No, I couldn't._

"Yes, you could." She said happily, but in a very motherly fashion. "Now let's go and see what we can do about planning. I mean, I believe that Valentines day is only…" she counted on her fingers for a while. "42 days away. And I hope you don't mind me helping too?"

_of course not._

"Good. Now, off to speak with Prof M, and then by that time, it will be lunch. Then we can start a plan, and then by the time we have done that, _and_ talked for like ages about each other, then we can go to Dinner." Procella gulped, and Tonks hooked her arm as she stood up. "Together. Don't worry, you've got me now. For moral support. Ok?"

_Thank you. _

"Oh no problem. Now, let's go!"

"My Gosh, for a minute there, I thought Minerva was going to either scream her head off at us, or hug us to death." Tonks plonked down on the couch of the staff room, as Procella came over with a cup of tea.

_I know, but the shouting part may be due to the first year that tried to get his friend to throw his conjured mouse, out the window._

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Tonks giggled and waited for her new friend to sit with her. "Oh thank you. But, don't you like tea?"

_I have my own drink._

"Oh, right." She looked curiously as Procella produced a long pale dragon horn, rubber cork topped drinking flask from her satchel. "What is it?"

_oh, just a nice mixture of things. _Tonks was about to enquire what was I it, when a very pissed off professor entered the room.

And not just _any_ pissed of professor.

But Snape.

"You." He started, looking down his nose at Procella like she was a piece of filth. "A word, now." He demanded, and reached out to grab her wrist, when Tonks stood up, and moved between the potions master and her friend.

"Now look Snivels." She pointed to his face, making a stern statement. "Procella has done noting wrong so back off. She has been with me all day."

"Even first period?"

"…well no. but right after that she-"

"Right _after that_ does not concern me." He focused his dark, almost black eyes on Procella, and made her want to shiver. "_during that_ is what concerns me. And thus." He pushed Tonks to one side gently, as he was still a professional, and stood over Procella. "A word. Now."

"No, I don't _think_ so!" Tonks moved between them again, and Procella stood up behind her.

"Are you such a coward that you need _her_ of all people to stand up for you?" he sneered at her. "I would expect such from a creature like _you_."

"Severus!" Snape turned to see Remus Lupin stood right behind him. "I think you will treat both these young women with a little more respect, don't you?"

"No, I don't Lupin." Snape turned. "But I may be more pleasant to your ridiculously behaved friend with even more absurd hair, if _professor Consensio_." He red from her badge. "Would step outside with me. Alone. Now."

"No way!" Tonks remembered the wave of distraught fear that came with the memory of Snape from Procella. And she wasn't going to let her feel that again. "She will not!"

"If she is unwilling to join you Snape, you will leave her alone. Understand." But he ignored them. he simply glared right into the one visible emerald eye. As the other was hidden beneath her golden fringe of curly hair.

_I will go._ Tonks looked over her shoulder, with a brow raised. _I don't want to cause you any trouble_. Procella stepped to Tonks' side, and looked down to Snape's feet.

"Don't, remember what you told me before, how he-"

"Talking about me have we?" he said icily. "_Talking_ about me." He added.

"Leave her alone!" Tonks was determined to get Procella out of this. She wasn't going to let this happen to her, not again.

_I want to._ "Why?" Procella looked over her shoulder and smiled at her.

_Because I must. I, I have to make sure he doesn't upset you instead. I may be frightened of him…but not enough to push that upon you._ "Don't, don't go." But Procella had turned away, and started to walk out the staff room.

"Good choice." Snape muttered to himself and followed her.

Snape walked in front of her now, letting her follow his back towards the dungeons. It appeared as if he wanted to talk to her like he said. _Alone_. He was silent all the way to his class room, where 20 or so cauldrons were empty and waiting for their next users. Snape glided through them, and to his desk. He then turned on his heels swiftly, and leaned back on his desk.

"Do you know why you are here?" he spoke to her very much like he did one of his none-Slytherin students. She nodded. "Then I will get right to it. What makes you even _think_ you have the right to perform magic upon any individual student? Do you realise how irresponsible that is? What if you have performed the spell wrong and done him harm? What if when you released him, he fell on the desk and broke his back?" he slated into her, and she hung her head forward, her hair throwing a shadow over her eyes. Her hands came together in front of her, and she was silent. Still. "And how DARE you perform any form of punishment upon one of MYpupils, without consenting me before hand!" he yelled and he stopped when he heard her sniffle. But he couldn't hear anything else, and continued. "He is _my_ responsibility and mine alone to punish for any such crime. I am both outraged and disgusted to learn of the way you have conducted yourself in your first lesson." He took a menacing step towards her. "_Your, first, lesson._" Her hands started to tremble, so she moved them behind her back. "You will never, ever do this again, agreed?" she nodded once, and remained still. Snape folded his arms and glowered down at her. "Pathetic. No backbone at all. How do you expect to have the respect of your pupils, when you can not even look your co-workers in the eyes when they are talking to you?" she flinched at that, and seemed to hang her head even further forward. "Look at me!" her body tensed, and still focused on the floor.

Snape stepped closer to her, and one hand grabbed her shoulder. "I said!" he began, but stopped when her face snapped up to look at him.

Tears were streaming down her face, her perfect lips were parted as whimpers flowed from between them. Her body was trembling even under his grip, and she leaned back. As if to get as much distance between them as possible. His face softened, and he simply looked to her.

_Merlin…not even Neville Longbottom is this bad…_

Procella whimpered and closed her eyes, glad at least one of her terrified eyes had been hidden from his scrutinising gaze. She turned her face and body away from him, making no sound other than whimpering. He felt her pull away from him, and his grip on her tightened. This made her yelp in her throat, and she turned her entire body to look down at the floor, as if the sight of him burnt her. With all her body weight pulling away from his one hand, and him unready, she slipped from his gip, and fell into a heal on the floor. Her hair fanned over her head and face, hiding her features from him, and she looked directly down at the floor. Which must have been only 15 inches from her face now. Her hands held her up, and her legs were curled behind her.

Snape didn't know what to do.

At his feet was a whimpering, shivering wreck of a woman, and he had made her that way. His aim had been to make her so defensive, or even angry, that she would state her right to punish her pupils. Or even just talk!

But this…he had not been ready for this…nothing could have made him ready for this…

Procella was still shivering, when Snape stepped towards her. She heard this, and flinched with a quick gasp. Snape was leaning over to grab her shoulder, and pull her up, when the door opened.

Tonks, Remus, and Minerva all saw the state Procella was in.

Procella on the floor, whimpering, crying.

Snape was furious with her when he demanded her to come with him.

He was still there with her, leaning over her.

A hand still outstretched at her, and shocked to see them.

You can imagine the conclusions made.

"SNAPE!" Lupin raised his wand, and wasn't in time.

To everyone's surprise, it was Minerva who had her wand at the ready first, and shouted.

"SEVERUSWASI!" he flew backwards at a tremendous speed, and hit the back wall behind his desk. Lupin ran forwards, as Tonks stayed with Minerva for back up, and wrapped his arms around Procella.

"Procella, can you hear me?" she turned her face away from him. She didn't want anyone to see her tears. But when he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her up, he saw her face. "Severus!" he seethed, and pointed his wand at the potions master. Snape stood up and brushed himself off.

"What was the meaning of that, McGonagall?" he said snarkily and raised his eye brow at her.

"How DARE you assault another teacher!"

"I didn't." he said calmly. "She fell over, and I was about to assist her up when you stormed in and made _false_ assumptions." He walked around the desk, and Lupin snarled, making everyone but Snape jump. "Not had your potion yet I see."

"Back off." He growled, and held Procella to him.

"Ask her, I did not raise a hand nor wand to her." He didn't panic. All his years in service to both the dark lord, _and_ Dumbledore taught him losing your head in an explosive situation, was not an option. Tonks stood closer to her, as her face was still buried in one of Lupin's shoulders.

"Did he hurt you? Tell me, I can have him sent _straight_ to Azkaban on the next train!"

_No._ she looked up, and looked her straight in her magenta eyes. _No, no he didn't assault me._ "Impossible! I don't believe it." She kept her wand pointed at Snape, and puff.

Albus Dumbledore apparated next to Severus.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"Ask him!" Tonks waved her wand dangerously at Snape, who had his own in his hand now. Not liking how spell happy the three of them looked right now.

"Severus?" he turned to Snape, who rolled his eyes.

"I have a Pensieve. If you will not believe me, then look into her mind. I would for you…but I doubt you would believe _that._" He sighed, as if bored by this already. "But I did not touch her." He thought about that. "I did not harm her." He did touch her, when he grabbed her shoulder.

"Or we could simply ask Procella." Lupin realised that he was holding her possessively, like a mad man, and straightened up. He then tried to coax Procella to look up, but she wouldn't. "Did he harm you my dear?" Procella slowly shuck her head. "No? Then what is the problem here, Minerva?" he looked to see how furiously Minerva was looking at Snape, who was glaring back at her. "Would you care to lower you wand?" he asked softly. And slowly, Minerva lowered her wand. "Now, if this has been one misunderstanding, then I believe that we should leave it as that. A misunderstanding." He waited, but no one moved. A few moments later, Procella pushed away from Lupin gently, and made her way out of the dungeons. Tonks followed, and Snape saw her put her hand on her back before they were out of sight. Then, as if reluctant, Lupin turned his back and left. Next was Minerva, who didn't look all too convinced, not that anyone else was, and went back to her classes.

When it was only Albus and Severus, Dumbledore folded his arms.

"Now, would you like to tell me what _actually_ happened?"

"I spoke to her about how she took her liberties as a teacher here upon one of my students. And she wouldn't even look at me." He huffed. "And she didn't say anything _at all._ Not even when I shouted at her." He then realised the 'old git' was trying to make him open up, and withdrew from this tactic. "But that is her problem." He grunted, and went off to gather the samples from his last class. If he didn't store them now, they would be ruined before nightfall. He didn't stop his working until he heard the familiar 'poof' of someone disapparating. He then allowed a frown to appear on his face, and stopped his work.

The look of terror on her face…it was still imprinted on his mind. He was used to fearful faces and screaming victims from his darker and prior career, but not like that.

Perhaps, because she wasn't screaming, or begging for her life…it made him _look_ at her even more.

He remembered back to when he first saw her, her golden hair bouncing with life and her eyes dazzling with wonder and joy. Her smile was more bewitching than anything he kept in his store cupboard, or his ingredient jars.

He was not ready, he wasn't. He wasn't ready to see such a pure beauty look upon him with such fear…

The vile in his hands smashed in his grip, and the purple sludge fell to the floor. "Scourgify." The mess on his hand and floor vanished, and so did the broken vile. It didn't matter; it was only Longbottom's. He already had a fail as it was. The potion was supposed to be white and water like. _Not purple and mud in texture, idiot._ He still couldn't use his frustration towards the failure boy to get rid of that image of pure, raw horror. He had never noticed the fear he inflicted, nor had he cared…but her eyes. He saw both her eyes when she fell, and for a brief moment when she looked up at him. Such fear…the memory wedged itself right in between his heart, and wouldn't budge. Even when he told himself she was as stupid, over reactive girl.

Her face…he saw it before his eyes all the time. For hours he saw her face…

Her face…

_Where is she?_

Tonks was sat next to Lupin on the other end of the table than Snape, only because there was no sign of Procella. After they left the dungeons, she had run all the way to her room. The last mental note she got, was '_I just need to be alone, to clear my head.'_

And now it was dinner, and everyone was here. Everyone, but a few more students…and Procella.

Snape was sat in his place too, almost anxious to see Procella. Perhaps if he saw her, and saw her smiling, even just once, this image of her cowered from him will stop tormenting him.

And then, it happened. The doors opened and in came Procella. She was still dressed in her long black skirt, her black over corset and off the shoulders white frilly gypsy top. Her hair now however, was not a mess like when he had last seen her, but curly perfection, as she walked slowly towards her seat. And she was making her way right to him.

Her eyes were closed, and one was hidden by her blonde fringe. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tonks get up, but Dumbledore looked to her and indicated for her to be seated. For once, Snape was grateful for the interference of the old man, but he didn't want to think why.

So Procella reached her place, and still had her eyes closed as she sat perfectly still in her place. The tension around the teacher's table was only pushed aside, as Albus stood and addressed the hall. He said something about the first day being the first of many, and something else inspirational.

But Snape wasn't listening. He was looking to his right at the woman who refused to speak, or open her eyes. He was grateful her fringe covered her _right_ eye, or he wouldn't be able to see her face at all. And her face was so blank. And still slightly red from tears. But she held her posture, and remained still.

Just then, he felt someone reaching out with their mind over the table. He looked into his knife, and saw Tonks with her eyes closed and desperately concentrating on something. At first he thought she was trying to remember something, when he heard a whisper of something in his mind.

_Procella, are you alright? Do you want to swap places with me?_ The voice was Tonks', and he heard it in his mind. Which meant either she had developed a form of Legilimency, or she was using a link to someone who did…and that would mean…

He looked up to Procella again, and narrowed his eyes at her. But without eye contact, it was difficult to penetrate her mind.

"Professor Consensio." He tried to get her attention. But she didn't look away.

_But if you want me to move, I will. Remus agrees with me and everything._ He was only hearing Tonks' side of the conversation, which would also mean that the person who she was linked to, could hide their thoughts.

Which would indicate Occlumency. The prevention of Legilimency and the invasion of another mind.

_But he attacked you! You can't tell me he didn't! _He clenched his fists, and continued to listen. _Ok, but mentally he did! He verbally attacked you and mentally hurt you. That is just as bad, because it hurts longer and takes longer to heal. Please, at least come down here…_ he had enough, and looked to Procella. "Professor. I would like you to converse with me, not your friend." He heard her gasp, and her face faltered for a second, before returning to her mask.

_What do you mean we have to cut this short! Don't-"_ but her voice was silenced. "Good, now that you have ended the connection, perhaps _we_ can speak to one another like human beings?" her lips pursed together slightly, but she didn't do anything. "Professor…" he said in a warning tone. But she ignored him. "If you remember, this is how our ill feeling began. Because you ignored me. Following Lupin's advice on ignoring me and staying away from me, is both childish, and futile." He leaned towards her. "Because I will not be ignored and I will not be silent. Ignoring me will not make me 'go away' Consensio." As he leaned closer, he saw her flinch with a yelp in her mouth, and she turned her face away from him a little more. "I…" and he closed his mouth. Why did she disarm him so, by simply saying nothing.

_Her fear disarms me so, not her lack of words._ He sighed.

Then, food appeared on their plated, and they both ate minimally, to concerned about what the other person was doing. When they had both given up on eating, he looked to her again. "Look at me Consensio." She looked away even more. "If you look at me, we may establish a mind link. You will not verbally speak with me, so mentally is our only other option." She didn't respond. "What did I say about ignoring me?" he growled slightly, and she moved.

She moved her chair against the table leg, and as far away from him as possible.

But this was not a defiant action, as he saw her frown had returned at the tone of his voice. "Please?" he tried another tactic. "_Please_ make a link with me." She slowly reached into her sleeve, with shaking hands he noticed, and gingerly dropped a pad and quill on the table.

_No. I will not. _And a tear drop was all the exclamation point she needed, before she turned her face completely away from him.

That wedge turned into a stake, and drove harder into him from inside his chest. He even recoiled from the note, but curled his slender fingers around it, before slipping it into his pocket. "Very well." And that was all he said. "I was forced to resort to this." He added, and fright spurred adrenaline started to pump through her veins.

Severus closed his eyes, and focused. Now that he wasn't trying to just ease drop a particular mind link, he would find this easier. He reached out with his mind, and turned his eyes to look at her. "Look at me, I mean it Mss Procella." The change in name caught her off guard, and she did actually turn her face slightly.

And that was all he needed. He clicked his fingers swiftly, and made her jump round to see what he had done.

Her emerald eye looked right into his dark ones, and couldn't look away. "I had no choice." He began to do exactly what he did to potter last year, and pushed his consciousness into her mind. His wand pointed at her under the table. "Legilimens." She gasped, and he pushed against her harder. Her visible eye twitched, and then grew with fear. A single tear fell from her eye…before…

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and back again. But they were completely white, no pupil, no irises. Her face was still blank, but her ghostly eyes seemed penetrate his soul. Her skin turned paler than his, and he felt something on his leg. He didn't dare break contact now, so he couldn't see one of her hands on his closest leg. Her nails grew, and she dug them into his leg. He growled in pain, but didn't stop.

And he hit it. A mind wall that pushed back against him, and halted his invasion. "Very good. You _do_ know Occlumency." He felt something else now, a clawing sensation at his mind. "As you have just leant, so do I." it was a stand off, and only Snape and Procella weren't aware that they were glaring intently at each other, faces inches apart and _both_ looking murderous. "But how well do you know it?" he pushed harder, and she flinched at the force. But she then pushed back, and he cringed. "Good, very good." He was starting to enjoy this. It had been a while since he met someone with 'the abilities'. And she was proving a challenge.

"Severus…?" Albus asked as he, and everyone else were focused on their silent battle. Snape's hand dug into the desk front, her hand dug into his leg.

"SERPENSORTIA!" a large snake flew from a 7th year's wand, and landed on Snape's lap. He yelled and broke the connection, falling back in his chair.

"Evanesco!" the snake vanished, and Snape glared over to the boy stood up, his wand still pointing at the potions master.

The Chosen one Harry Potter, the only one in the hall who had any idea what it was like to resist Snape and his Legilimency, had cast the spell performed on him in his second year, and come to Procella's aid. "Boy!"

"Leaver her alone!" he shouted. Snape stood up, ready to hex the damn boy, when Albus stood up.

"That is enough. I believe it is time for you all to return to your common rooms or sleeping quarters. Go all of you." He looked over his half moon spectacles at Harry. "And you too Harry. I am sure Mss Consensio will be alright, as will professor Snape." He looked to the rest of the teachers, who started to herd the rest of the students out of the hall. Both Tonks _and_ Remus had to _drag_ Harry out of the hall.

Snape looked back to Procella, and saw she had stood up. She had her back to him, and her arms around herself.

"Wait." She had started to walk off, and didn't show signs of stopping. "Stop!" she didn't. he started after her, but she just span round on her feet, and glared at him. Her eyes were still an eerie white, and she opened her mouth. Pearly white fangs hissed at him, and her left hand still had some blood on her nails. He then looked down at himself, and realised that he was still bleeding. He looked up to Procella, and smacked himself mentally. "Of course, of course you can't speak…you're a Banshee."

"A Half Banshee Severus." Albus interrupted. "One whisper could break the ear drums of anyone near her. Unless she directed her verbal attack at someone, then she could kill them." Procella blinked a few times, and she gasped. "Worry not my dear. Everyone else, other than the students of course, already knew of your heritage. And Professor Snape would have known too, if he hadn't have refused to come to the briefing." Snape mentally smacked himself in the head. It was his own fault he didn't know. "And I am sure that if anything, a level of understanding shall now fall between you both. And perhaps forgiveness?" he aimed more at Procella. Her eyes returned to their emerald colour, her skin its normal peachy huge, and her fangs retracted. She looked blankly at Snape, as if unsure of what to do next. "Perhaps?" he asked her again, and she still did nothing.

"Consensio, I." but as he stepped towards her, she backed off. The look of fear back on her face, and knifing at his heart. Why he didn't know. Maybe it was because he saw now he had wronged her? He didn't think about that know.

"Couldn't you forgive him?" Albus asked for him, seeing he was lost for words.

Procella put one hand over her temple, and the other over her mouth.

"You tried to invade my mind." Tonks had walked into the room, her face blank. "You hurt me so much. My voice may be deadly, but as I have first had experienced, so is yours." Then Procella turned her back to them all. "You made me vulnerable in every way. First with your words, and then with your very mind. You violated me. Tried to rape my mind at your leisure, because I wouldn't let you. That, I can never forgive. Never." And she walked over to Tonks, who returned to normal and walked her out.

Albus shuck his head, this was not a good start to term.

Snape however, we speechless. She would never forgive him. Never. "What have I done?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter4 

"I love free periods you know." Ron chuckled and leaned back in his comfy chair. "Love them."

"And why am I not shocked to see you are using such valuable time, to lounge about? And not study?"

"Because not all of us are mad Hermione."

"Why you!" but she just humphed at him, and returned to her runes studies. They were sat in the common room, it was first period, and they had it and second period free.

Harry however, didn't take notice of his friends' little spat. His mind was elsewhere, with someone else.

"Look, I have _done_ all my work last night, last thing. So _now _will you leave me alone?"

"That isn't the point!"

"Is to!"

"You are so immature Ron!"

"You started it!"

"I wonder how Mss Consensio is…" the two stopped their bickering, and looked to Harry. He was also in a comfy chair, sat forward with his chin on one fist, the other hand on his knee.

"I'm sure she is Harry. I mean, she looked to be giving Snape a run for his money, wouldn't you say?"

"I would." Ron added. "Did you see how she glared right back at him, and stood up to him like that? It was bloody brilliant I tell you. She just became my favourite teacher." Harry smiled at that. "But of course…" and then he frowned. He knew what _that_ meant. "I'm sure you already have _first dibs_ on her being your favourite teacher, right?"

"Shut up Ron."

"Make me, lover boy."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Hermione looked up from her rune studies, and looked at Ron. He looked very smug with himself and Harry pouted. Or was he sulking? "Ron?"

"While you were practising wandlessly levitating your runes book, Harry was drooling at the new non verbal's professor."

"I was _not_ drooling. She is nice, that's all."

"If I remember correctly, and I do, when I asked you what you thought to her, the word you used was not 'nice'."

"Ron, don't."

"The word was." He mocked Harry with a dreamy look of a lovesick puppy. "Amazing."

"I did not look like that. _And_ I didn't even say it like that!"

"No, not being in love myself, I wouldn't know how to pull off your true feelings." Ron chuckled, even when Harry threw the cushion at him. "So you're not denying it?"

"Give up!"

"Harry loves Consensio, Harry loves Consensio." Ron chanted and jumped out of his seat. Harry chased him around the common room, and Hermione rolled her eyes at them both.

"Boys." She muttered, as Harry landed on top of him.

"Take it back!"

"Never! I will not lie!"

"Then you will keep it to yourself." Harry whispered to Ron, who nodded.

"Alright. But if you start goggling at her next lesson, then I won't _need_ to keep quite for you." Harry play punched his arm, and then pulled him up. "O, and you have to help me with…" he nodded his head towards Hermione. "You know."

"Don't worry. I will." They returned to Hermione, and sat down.

Somehow, she managed to get them to start their essay for transfiguration, which took just under two hours.

Which meant… "Damn! We're going to be late!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure Consensio won't punish _you_." Ron slipped that one in, and they threw their bags over their shoulders.

"Hurry!" Hermione was shocked to see that it was Harry who was dragging _them_ to lesson.

They arrived just as the bell went, panting and made their way to their single desks.

Professor Consensio was sat _on_ her desk, smiling and waiting for the rest of her class to arrive. He wore mid shin high black flat material boots, a long layered scarlet skirt, and a white frilly blouse. Her hair was back in a low ponytail, held in a black ribbon. But as always, her side parting made her curly blonde fringe cover her right eye. So only one emerald orb greeted her students with a warm twinkle.

As Draco Malfoy made his way in, the last student to arrive, and took his seat, she clapped her hands. She then looked around the class, and focused on Harry. He was possibly looking at her the most eager to learn, and she remembered to how he liked participating the day before.

And how he came to her rescue.

Well, tried.

Procella smiled and lifted up her right hand. She winked, at first Harry thought he was in heaven. Until his glasses flew off his face and landed in her hand. She chuckled at his shocked expression, and waved her other hand at the black board.

_Today, Accio._ It span again. _After demonstrating your homework._ She heard them groaning, and chuckled behind her free hand. She then pointed to the Slytherin side of the room, and the first boy stood up. He had short black hair, and the usual scowl of a Slytherin.

"Go on Blaise, send her to the roof." Malfoy hissed at him, and he nodded. Procella walked up to him, and took his wand. He then looked right at her, and squinted really hard. Procella chuckled when he started to turn blue from lack of oxygen, but not as much as the Gryffindor half. They roared with laughter, and this angered the Slytherins. She gave Blaise a small ink pot, but he still couldn't life it.

One by one, she pointed to the children, who tried their hardest. But all of them failed.

Then it came to the Gryffindor half of the class. Before she could even blink, Hermione and Harry jumped up to volunteer. _Oh, how sweet._ She thought, and could have sworn her smile made Harry blush. But she shrugged it off, and looked to Hermione. She nodded at her, and placed the ink pot in her eye line. Hermione placed her wand on her desk, and stared at the object like it was her mortal enemy. She bit her bottom lip, and squinted even more.

But the pot would not move.

After a few minutes of trying, Procella walked up to her and put her hand on her shoulder. Hermione sighed with defeat, and yet furious with herself for failing, and sat down. Procella turned to Harry, and smiled. He looked down with a blush, and coughed into his hand. She put the ink pot on his desk, and held her hand out. With much courage, Harry pulled his wand out and put it in her hand. For the briefest moment, his finger tips touched her soft palm, and he smiled with peace. Ron had to elbow him in his leg to bring him back to reality.

Then, he looked to the ink pot. He wanted so much to do as he practised, and glower at the object like he did Snape and Malfoy, for hours on end. But that not only produced no result, but he couldn't seem to concentrate on the task before him. He kept looking out the corner of his green eyes at her. She then chuckled and handed him his glasses back, assuming that is what he wanted. He blushed again and quickly put them on. He looked again to the ink pot, and again looked out the corner of his eye at the siren of a teacher before him. He was 17, and she was only 20. Not too much of a difference…and she was heavenly. He wondered if this was how his father felt about his mother, from all the moving pictures he has of them together. And she smiled like his mother… He forced himself to look at the ink pot, and couldn't stop smiling. He just felt light headed, and dizzy from being near her. He felt like he could…float?

Procella clapped her hands with pride at him, as the ink pot levitated at least 10 inches from the desk. Her hand went on his shoulder, and she gave it a squeeze. 'Well done' she mouthed, and took the ink pot in mid float. She walked to the next student, and began the test again.

All this time, Harry couldn't come down from his high. He had succeeded, he had impressed her. He felt a foot taller than he already was, and grinned madly. Ron made throwing up actions silently after he failed, and made Harry chuckle.

When the tests were finished, Procella walked to the front desk and sat on it again, one leg over the other femininely. She applauded them all, and then looked to the board.

_Well done, I didn't expect anyone to get it the first time. But well done Harry._ He glowed at that, and Hermione rolled her eyes with Ron. And the board flipped again. _You are all familiar with the Accio spell, and you can use the remainder of the lesson to either write about it, or practise it for next lesson._ And it flipped again. _But not only will you be performing the Accio spell wordlessly, but also the Wingardium Leviosa. _ She chuckled, and waved her hand at the board again. _Other than you Harry. But I would like you to practise it anyway._ Time had gotten away with them, as the bell went right there. Everyone flooded out of the class, except for Harry. He walked up to Procella alone, his friend gone off to DADA. He cleared his throat, and Procella looked up from her planner.

"Mss Consensio." He took a deep breath. "Could I ask a favour?" she nodded with a wide smile, and waved her hand to one side. A chair pulled up right behind him, and knocked against his knees. He sat back, and was still tense. "Well, I was wondering…will you be doing after hours lessons? I mean, for practise…if you're not busy or anything." He blushed the whole time, but Procella beamed. _That will give me something to do. And I could monitor Mr Potter better that way. He seems quite natural at Wandless Magic._ She thought to herself, before referring to her planner.

Monday

1st period, 7th years.

Tuesday

3rd period, 7th years.

5th period, 6th years.

Wednesday

2nd period, 6th years.

3rd period, 6th years.

Thursday

1st period, 7th years.

2nd period, 7th years.

Friday

4th period, 7th years.

5th period, 7th years.

Procella looked to the one day she didn't have the 7th years, and then smiled up at Harry. She pointed to the period she wanted to do. Harry pulled out his own planner, and saw he had a free period there, to his great delight. He had to take a moment to make sure he didn't sound too giddy. Then, he said. "5th period Wednesday. Sure, that is ok with me." He watched as she scribbled 'Private lesson' into 5th period on a Wednesday afternoon. She then looked up, and smiled at him. "Oh, I should go." He blushed. She caught him staring. "I have DADA." She quickly pulled out a quill, and threw it at a piece of paper near Harry. It perked up on its point, and began to scribble. The paper then tore in two, and Procella looked to it. One half fluttered up into a waiting hand, and the other slid over the desk for him to read.

Harry first looked to the note, which explained where he was. The note on the table, was a question.

_Do you have professor Lupin?_ "Yes I do." The quill perked up again, and wrote underneath. _May I come with you?_ He beamed and nodded more frantically than he would have liked. She chuckled at his enthusiasm, and collected her things. Harry couldn't believe his luck. With his crappy run of bad luck through out his life, he was unprepared to walk a beautiful woman to his next class.

_Ok Harry, stay calm. Breathe man breathe._ He snapped back to reality when Procella stood next to him. She remembered what Tonks had done with her upon first meeting her, and beamed at Harry. She held her arm open, and looked to him innocently. Harry almost prayed thanks to God, as he hooked arms with her. "So, at least Lupin will believe who I've been with." Procella chuckled and let him lead her up the stairs and to DADA class.

When Remus got up this morning, he never would have believed you if you told him Procella was going to walk into his class, smiling and giggling on the arm of his new God Son. In Sirius's will, he handed godfathership over to Remus.

But he still couldn't believe it, even as it happened right in front of him.

"Sorry I'm late professor. I was talking to Professor Consensio about extra lessons."

"I can see that." He chuckled softly, and looked to the hooked arms. "What exactly did you say you were talking about again Harry?" Ron sniggered, and Harry let go of her arm instantly.

"Extra lessons, sir." He added, muttering his reply.

"Very well. Now please, take you seat." Harry sat with Hermione and Ron (who mysteriously got a punch in the ribs for laughing), and prepared himself for class. "Now, why do I have this honour Mss Consensio?" she waved her hand, and a quill and parchment flew off Lupin's desk and into her hand. She let the quill write on its own accord, and handed the parchment to Lupin. He had crossed the classroom within this time, and read the note. "Chronic boredom? Well, I am not so sure whether Madam Pomfrey will have an antidote to that, but perhaps we can help." He indicated his class. This was a Gryffindor and Slytherin combination class, and the same class she just taught. "So." He grinned impishly. "Who wants me to make my dear friend, disappear?" the Slytherin half of the class instantly jeered, and the Gryffindors laughed too. But Harry didn't. "And I _can_ bring her back." At this, Harry joined in. "You see, you have worked so hard last year, and this year will be hard enough. So I have a perfect idea to give you a 'fun lesson' as it were. Would you agree to this professor?" she chuckled and nodded. _This could be fun._ "Good, good." He rubbed his hands together with mirth. He looked like a little boy who got his own way. "Now, I am sure _some of you_ will recognise this item." He hinted, and pulled a long silken cloak. It was a mixture of soft purples, dark and shadowy blues. "Anyone?"

"An invisibility cloak."

"Very good Ms Granger. 20 points to Gryffindor." He then looked to Procella. "Now, please wear this and hide somewhere. I will give 50 points to the first person to catch the good professor, with no help from myself, or your wands. In fact, place your wands on your desk." Everyone did. He then placed a jinx on them all one by one. "I have out a jinx on them. And I will not tell you which one. But if you try to use them, the result will not be pretty. Now, everyone move away from Professor Consensio." He grinned, and threw the cloak at her. She giggled like a little girl playing a game, which they were, and threw the cloak over herself. She became invisible, and closed her eyes.

Procella jumped up and Wandlessly hovered herself up to look down at them all. All of the students were just throwing their arms around, hoping to connect with something. Everyone was laughing and Lupin sniffed at the air. He then looked up, and right at her. But he was sat at his desk, unseen from all the students, keeping her whereabouts safe for now. Procella beamed down at them all, having the time of their lives, tripping over each other and still laughing. Even Malfoy cracked a small smile when Crab thought it would be a good idea for him to climb up on Goyle's shoulders, and fell.

But like all good things, they have to come to and end.

"What is the _meaning_ of this?" she slapped her hand over her mouth, as none other than Severus Snape stormed inside and glared at every student, until they returned silently to their seats. "I _did_ come to bring you your potion, Lupin." He sneered around the room, and looked to Lupin, who looked both cocky, and anxious that he was here. If that was possible. "But I see it was a good thing I chose to come here now. As all sense of classroom behaviour had left with your good senses. and you call yourself a Defence against the Dark arts teacher. I asked Dumbledore to let me teach your lessons during this time of the month, but no."

"I am perfectly able to teach my classes, Snape."

"You called that teaching?"

"Yes actually, I do. They were taking information in, in a way they will remember it."

"And what were they learning?"

"To seek what is hidden, Snape." He growled, and leaned back on his desk.

Procella had hovered herself to sit on the arch of the door below her, and elegantly crossed one leg over the other. She leaned forward, and rested one had at either side of herself. At first she was afraid when Snape walked in, but he couldn't see her. And so he ignored her, just the way she wanted him to.

"And just, _what_ where they seeking, Lupin." At this Remus hesitated.

"You say you have brought my potion." He changed the subject.

"Yes." Snape said with suspicion. He then handed the large flask over to him, and looked around the room with scrutiny. "But what were they looking for?"

"I am sure you are a very busy man, being the resident Potions master and all." He tried to get him to leave, but Snape persisted.

"What are you hiding in here Lupin?" he said more sternly this time, and pulled out his wand. He then thought to the time he had caught Remus hiding Sirius in the shrieking shack. "Or should I say, _who_ are you hiding?" from the way Remus then looked at him, he knew he had hit the target. "Where are they Lupin?" he looked around.

"Does it matter? Besides, I have set the task of locating _them_ to the students. Don't waste your time with it."

"I will do as I please. Is it a student?" he looked around the class, and saw all the seats were full. "No…a teacher? Or is it that insufferable friend of yours?" Snape referred to Tonks, but Procella thought he meant her.

_Even when he can't see me, he is so awful to me._ She sniffed, and regretted it. Snape span round on his heels, and his wand pointed straight up at her. "Come down now." he was so sure it was Tonks now, from the way 'the person' had only made a sound after he had mentioned Tonks the way he did. "I said now!" he heard a thud on the floor, and walked forwards. The class was separated at each side, and in the centre were no chairs or desks. So he knew that they stood there. "Reveal yourself, or I shall do it for you." He pointed his wand forward, at arms length and his body was poised for a duel if need be. "Now."

The air before him rippled, and then a silk looking robe fell to the floor. "…Procella." His face was blank, as he looked to her. Her face was blank too, so he couldn't see if she had either forgiven him, or if she hated him. Why he would care, he didn't know. Snape lowered his wand to his side, and here was silence. He blinked once, and then stepped forward. Her face didn't change, but she took a swift step back. This made him halt on the spot, and think what to do next. He _could_ just ignore her and leave with a snarky comment. He _could_ just ignore her completely. _Or_ he could try to talk to her.

"I think you should leave, Snape." Lupin said behind him, not asking or hinting his time.

"And I shall. I must say, I wasn't expecting to see you." He spoke only to Procella. "I thought your pink hared body guard would step from behind the cloak…not you." She looked away, and felt so uncomfortable. Because she could feel his stare on her.

"Snape." Lupin warned.

"What are you doing in this lesson?" he suddenly interrupted Lupin, and raised his brow at Procella.

"She had nothing better to do." Lupin answered for her, and walked up next to Snape. "She was bored and I asked her to participate in my lesson. Now if you would just l-"

"Then you shall come with me. Interrupting other teacher's lessons, is not how we conduct ourselves in this school Mss Consensio."

"You mean _professor _Consensio. She is a professor too." Lupin pulled his wand from his pocket.

"Did I say otherwise, Lupin?" he sneered. "Now don't forget to take your medicine like a good little dog." he whispered with venom, making Remus grind his teeth together.

Snape then walked towards Procella again, and she backed off. Her arms were stiff by her sides, and only her feet seemed to work. The one eye he could see, held that same fear again, that made the stake in his heart twist painfully. But he ignored it. "It helps to look where you are going you know." He said in a bored fashion, and walked in a way, that made her back out of the classroom.

"Procella." Lupin started after them, but Snape stood in the doorway and looked to him with daggers.

"I am sure you can trust me enough to 'be nice' to our newest teacher, don't you Lupin?"

"Actually I don't."

"Well, tough. I have to take her to see McGonagall anyway, something about a ball." He dismissed Lupin before he could bite back, and closed the door on him. He then looked down the hall to see Procella with her back pressed against the dead end of tha corridor. "Come, your surrogate mother wants you." She looked to the door, which would take her to the transfiguration tower. "But, not just yet." Her blood ran cold at that. "Now, you will join me in the dungeon." She whimpered and looked to the door again. "Dot even-" but she bolted and the doors still swung from the force she had ran through them. "Damn." He spat, and pushed the doors open. He raised his wand. "Jelly legs!" Procella yelped as her legs buckled beneath her, and she fell to the floor. "Now what did I tell you about ignoring me? Running away is the same thing." Her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands trembled as she clawed at the floor. But Snape simply strode over to her, and moved to stand in front of her. "Now stop being ridiculous, and grow a back bone." He said a lot harsher than he intended. And he aid for it… "AAAAA!" he clasped his hands over his ears, and dropped to his knees in pain. The highest, most excruciating screech rang in his head and pulsed hard against his eardrums. He only just managed to open one eye, and see Procella with her mouth open. Her fangs were sowing, her skin was ivory white, and her eyes were closed. Procella was screeching on the same level as a dog whistle, possibly higher. But because of her heritage, her magic made it a lethal weapon. Snape felt his blood start to boil and his body shuck with pain. He had to force his hands away from his ears, and crawled closer to her slowly. Procella was perched up on her forearms, and tears fell down her face.

Then, a wave of foreign pain hit Snape hard.

And his world grew blank. Memories that were not his own seemed to knock him out cold, and play out in his mind.

Procella gasped and opened her eyes, looking in horror at the unconscious Snape laid by her side. A trickle of blood was coming from inside his ear, and his face was covered in blood from his nose, and even his gums. The jinx on her legs vanished, and she snapped up, kneeling straight. It took her a moment to register what she had done, and she whimpered. Her breathing increased and she sobbed with grief. _I, I've done it again. I, I, I've killed him! I'm a murderer! A monster! He's dead!_ She rose her head upwards and ran her hands through her hair, distraught and breaking up inside.

She had killed him.

He looked just like _he_ did.

Cold, pale, bleeding dark blood and motionless.

She had killed, she was a monster, she had done it again.

_Why does this keep happening? Why do I keep doing this? What did I ever do to deserve this!_ Procella bent over and her tears streamed madly down her face. Her throat stung with pain from sobbing, but she didn't stop.

She had killed this man. She had done it again.

_I'm a **murderer**. _She let out one, long wailing cry to the roof, and all the windows shattered, the occupants of the portraits ran for cover as their frames fell and smashed on the floor, full suits of arms and armour, shields and swords clattered and crashed on the floor, vases smashing and spilling water everywhere.

A jolt of pain went through her back and erupted all over her body, before she fell forward as unconscious as her victim. She remained in her Banshee form, as she was carried out by Nymphadora Tonks, and Snape was dragged out by both Lupin, and Hagrid. Poppy was soon directing them to the infirmary. Procella was still unconscious when a potent sleeping drought, brewed by none other than Snape himself, passed her lips. Her fangs finally retracted, and her skin looked living once more.

She slept in the hospital bed, in the wing secluded from the students as it was for the use of teachers only. Tonks sat by her bed, and whittled over her with Remus, who had to shake her to stop her going into a fit. They watched as she slept an empty slumber, but her face was permanently contorted into the same expression it was when they found her. Grief stricken, and pained.

"Merlin Snape. What did you do to her?" Tonks whispered as Remus held her for support. Dumbledore then walked in, and sighed.

"I fear it isn't _just_ what did Severus do to Procella…but what did _Procella_ do to _Severus._"

"What do you mean Professor?" Tonks sniffed and looked up.

"Why don't you look in the next bed, and take a look." Tonks slowly pulled away from Lupin, and pushed the veil around the bed open. She then walked to the next one, and peered through the curtains.

"Oh my God…"


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

The first thing Procella felt was a groggy lightheaded feeling, and numbness. Her eyes were closed and the first movement she made was smacking her hand over her face. She wiped her hands down it, and groaned. _I can't remember drinking last night…_

She opened her eyes slowly, and squinted to get used to the bright white colours of the curtains around her hospital bed. _Wait…hospital bed…? Why am I in a hospital bed?_ She closed her eyes again, and pushed herself up with her hands. Once she was sat up, she rubbed her eyes and looked to the curtains again. With one hand she waved the curtains open. At first she recoiled from the beam of light that hit her face from the nearby window, and groaned again. _Ah…ouch._ She held her throat, and winced. It was deathly soar, like she had been crying constantly, amongst other things…

And with that, her memories of the past few days came back to her.

Getting accepted to Hogwarts as the new Non verbal magic professor.

Arriving and being chased by Filch and Hagrid.

Being saved by Albus, and sitting at the table…

…_him…_

She remembered the way he looked at her, with his dark brown eyes. She remembered the way she looked him over, and felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach.

But most of all, she remembered how quickly her nervousness turned to fear at his words, and the way he then looked down at her.

With his dark brown eyes.

It was then she knew why his eyes called to her.

They were _his_ eyes, the same ones. She saw _him_ in his eyes, and it frightened her. She thought she had left that behind her, but _he_ had come back and haunted her in the eyes of the Potions master.

He had been so cruel to her too, and she withdrew into herself, becoming a shivering wreck.

She wasn't always like that…there was a time she was very bold, and defiant.

But not anymore.

Procella whimpered, remembering how he had gripped her shoulder cruelly in his dungeons, and held it with the memory.

All she wanted to do was desperately get away from the man that scared her, haunted her with those eyes of her past. It was like he looked into her soul when he looked at her with _those eyes._

And then he _did_ try to look into her soul, her mind.

He almost saw…he almost…saw… 

Procella pulled her knees up to her chest, and sobbed into them. _He almost saw what kind of a monster I truly am. And…and I panicked. I didn't know what to do!_ She rocked back and forth with grief, seeing Snape's cold, bleeding body before her even now. _And I killed him._ She pulled the curtains open, and pushed herself forward, onto her feet. Madam Pomfrey smiled to her and held another veil of sleeping draught, to calm her.

"Hello dear. I have something for you to-wait!" Procella ran straight past her, her golden hair flowing behind her with her tears. She ran right out of the infirmary.

Procella locked herself in her rooms, and crawled under the covers. She sobbed into her pillow, and refused to answer the door as anyone tried to talk to her.

Procella stayed in her room for two whole days, refusing to do anything but go to the bathroom. It was now Friday, and she hadn't cried for 8 hours now. She hadn't made any other sound either.

"Please Procella. Talk to me. Tell me what happened." Tonks tried from behind the door, tired. She had been at this for so long…she was so tired. "Talk to me Procella."

"It is no use Nymphadora." Dumbledore sighed, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "She is not listening."

"What happened…?"

"What transpired between Severus and Procella, is just that. Between Severus and Procella. But…Severus is awake."

Procella shot her head up, and scrambled off the bed. She knelt before the door, and pressed her ear against it. "And if you would accompany me, we may fond out just what _did_ happen. As I am sure Severus will be forthcoming with information…and probably more than needed." He sighed. "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if one of us were to be victim to his temper and outrage upon entering the infirmary. But come, we must leave. Answers must be known, for questions no doubt we are all thinking." Albus led Tonks off to the infirmary, and Procella was still.

Was that true? Was Snape alive?

_No, I saw him. I killed him myself…I remember seeing him dead by my feet. It is probably just a ploy to get me to come out._ She sighed, and picked herself up. Procella walked over to the bed, and curled up on it.

One thing she had managed, was to change into an ankle length negligee, and tied her hair back in a pig tail. She was too hot to wear anything else.

She was so tried. She hadn't eaten or drank anything since leaving the infirmary, and her body was weak. Crying so hard didn't help her much either, and she hugged her pillow, falling into a dreamless sleep…

_Where am I?_ Severus looked around his surroundings. He was wearing his usual black robes, and was perfectly healthy. It was odd though, he couldn't remember where he was or how he got here.

Here, was a large glade, eerie with the glow of night, and also bitter cold. Even Snape had to wrap his arms around himself, and wished he had his wand. For some reason, he knew he didn't have it, and didn't need to look for it.

He pressed on, and waded through the lush foliage. It was like something from a paradise island, but somewhere forgotten, and untouched.

Then he heard whimpering.

He followed the noise, and pushed long willow tree leaves on their delicate branches out of his face, and walked through them. Always using the whimpering noises as a beacon.

Snape found himself finally stood in the shelter of the willow tree, which looked like it could give the Whomping willow a run for its money height wise. He heard the whimpering again, and saw a patch of yellow. Or was it blonde? He crept along the large roots of the tree, and peered into a little cavern under the roots. There, was a little girl.

She sat with her knees against her chest, and her shoulder length blonde hair kept her identity from him.

"What is your name?" she didn't answer him, and she continued to whimper and shiver. "Hello? Can you hear me?" he reached out to her, but his hand went right through her. He stared at his hand, and rolled his eyes. "Of course. This is a memory. But…whose memory?" He looked back to the little girl, and lowered to one knee. He had to lower on all fours, to look up from beneath her folded arms. And just when he was going to see her face, he heard a sound.

On instinct, he rolled to the side and snapped his head to the intruder.

It was a woman.

Well, that was pretty kind.

For this creature had long, dirty grey and white hair, grey skin and raggy clothes. Her eyes were pale white, and her nails were unkept and jiggered. The 'woman' made his toes curl, and he stepped between the girl and this 'thing'. He then remembered that this was a memory, so he couldn't affect what had already happened. Snape stepped aside, and leaned against the tree.

For some reason, he didn't want this thing to come near the little girl, but he had to allow it, as it walked forward.

"_Get up, human."_ It spat with a hiss, and he shuck his head. He didn't recognise the accent from all his experiences, and yet he knew it very well.

"Wait…" he looked over her appearance again, and wished he would stop making these slip ups. "Another Banshee." And if this was a memory, he would hear the Banshee speaking like they would. But just _who_ was they?

He looked down at the child.

Was it hers? _"I said get up human!"_ a clawed hand swiped forward, and Snape flinched as the little girl was sent over the roots. She cried, and held her shoulder, which was now grazed. _"Awww, does that hurt? Human?"_ the little girl looked up, and he saw her face as she nodded.

Big emerald eyes…blonde hair…

_Oh Merlin…it's Procella. This is Procella's memories…"_ he couldn't fathom how he had obtained her memories, as he hadn't tried to enter her mind as they last met.

But the pain he felt, just before he passed out…was it _her_ entering _his _mind? Or was she so afraid of him, that the one thing she held as her darkest secret, was imprinted upon him in her moment of distraught?

He didn't think on it further, as the little Procella was yanked up by a fist of her hair. His knuckles grew white as he clenched his fists so tight, he wanted to attack this creature.

He was fast starting to lose his appreciation for Banshees.

It was then he noticed that there was another Banshee there, and another, and another. They were all coming through the willow leaves now, and making a circle around her. Snape made sure to be in the middle, so he could see what was so bad about this memory that Procella would be afraid for anyone to see it. He then assumed, this was the one thing she _didn't_ want him to see when he had tried to enter her mind. _"It is judgement time, human."_ The leader dragged her by her hair whimpering, before the rest of the 'clan'. _"This is an abomination to our kind! She is tainted filth, that is a disgrace to our legacy!"_ there were many agreeing hisses, and cackling. Snape became on edge, as two more Banshees, carrying another two people into the circle. They threw them down, and all three of them huddled together. Snape examined them, and knew who they were.

One was a tall man, with short black hair, and dark brown eyes. He was definitely human, and held the other two close to him protectively. Then there was Procella, who as he now saw, had her fangs grown in freight, and her green eyes were slowly going paler. And the smallest, must have only been three years old. Where Procella looked around twice that age, 6. The little one was also a girl, with short brown silky straight hair in a baby bob. Her eyes were brown like her father's, and she was crying loudly.

"Hush Sedo, Daddy will protect you." He kissed her forehead, and then did the same to Procella. "And you my darling Procella. I will not let you be harmed either." He held them both to his chest with one strong arm, and the other hand held a dark mahogany wand. "I will not let you harm my children!"

"_You have no choice human!"_ he wailed, even with the translators on his ears, he still winced at their tones. _"You rape one of our sister, let her die giving birth to **that**, and run off with it!"_ they all hissed, and it visibly hurt him. Procella had her hands over Sedo's ears, and hummed a soft tune trying to calm her sister desperately. _"And even worse!"_ another said. _"You then have **that** creature to a human woman, spitting on the memory of our fallen sister!"_ the hisses increased, and Snape stepped forward. This was fast getting out of control. He wanted to do something, but his hands were tied.

"I loved, and still love Procella's mother. I even named her after her mother, in her honour. And this child is the child of my arranged marriage. If I didn't consummate the marriage, my wife would have been punished by her father."

"_LIES!"_ the leader shrieked and made the man arch his back in pain. But he never let go of his children. Snape had to admire him for that. _"We have passes our judgement. Tonight, you will all die!"_ they started to swarm towards them, and Snape stood right next to the victims.

The man with dark brown eyes, lifted his children's faces and kissed them.

"Procella, you have to do something for Daddy ok?" Snape knelt down, he already knew what he was about to hear, and shuck his head slowly, in denial.

"She is 6 years old!" he shouted. "You can't!" but he didn't hear him.

"Remember when I told you never to speak, or to utter one word. Never, remember?" she nodded, tears falling down her face. "Well, Daddy needs you to do something."

"No!" Snape swung forward with a fist, but again it just went through him like he was a ghost. "Damn it."

"I want you to close your eyes for me. That's it." Procella wrapped her hand around her father's fingers, and her little sister clung to her. "Now, I want you to open your mouth." She did so. "Now, I want you to ignore everything you hear. I want you to ignore everything you hear, even if it's me or Sedo." She opened her eyes, confused. "Trust me honey." A tear fell down his face. "I swore to your mother you would live. I swore it. And if you don't to this, we will all die. Now…close your eyes." Procella threw her arms around her father, who hugged her, and blasted the first Banshee off them. "Don't cry my darling." He whimpered. "You were born with a gift, and you must never use it unless you need to, for the good of others. And the only way for you to help people, is to live. Now, now is the time to use that gift." He expelled another Banshee, and wracked from pain as they hissed. Enjoying kissing him slowly. "NOW PROCELLA!" He cringed in pain, already feeling his blood boiling. "YOU MUST DO IT NOW! AND REMEMBER I LOVE YOU!"

Snape dropped to his knees, and looked Procella in the face. Her eyes closed, her mouth opened, she clung to her father and sister, and her skin paled to an ivory white. Her fangs grew, and she screamed. Sonic, high pitch waves erupted from her tiny mouth, and shuck the very ground beneath them. Every Banshee buckled to the floor in pain, and clawed at their own heads.

Thud.

Procella wailed even louder as Sedo collapsed to the floor, dead. Tears burst through her eyes, and her head snapped back with grief.

One by one, the Banshees dropped down, dead and breathed no more. Only when every single one of them were dead, did Procella choke and whimper. She looked down at her twitching father with clear white eyes. Her tears fell and touched his face. Shakily, he managed to touch her cheek, and then smiled. Procella looked to his eyes, and ran her hands over his face, memorising every inch of him. She never looked away from his eyes, and pined for him. "Like…your…mother…" he smiled. "You look…like…your mother…" His face fell to one side, and Procella howled with grief.

"So _you_ killed them." Snape was on his knees, looking at Procella for the first time in his life, with sorrow. He pitied her. "That is why you are so sensitive, and refuse to talk. You don't want to hurt anyone ever again." He watched as she cradled her broken family, like no 6 year old should have to. "You cower away from any chance of hurting anyone. You are so timid, because you are broken inside." He felt his surroundings slip away from him, and felt numb all over. "But…why do you cower from me? Why do you refuse to look…at me?" he became light headed, and slipped off to unconsciousness.

There were so many questions he still wanted, and needed to ask, and so much more he needed to know. But for know, he slept. No more did he see Procella's darkest memory, no more did he see her pained face, and felt pity for her. He felt nothing, and slept…


	6. Chapter 6

"Headmaster, he is awake."

"Very Good poppy. Has he said anything yet?" Dumbledore walked down the teacher section of the infirmary, and towards the potion master's bed. It was still concealed by the light blue curtains, but the silhouette of the Slytherin prince was visible, and he was sat up.

"Yes, he insisted two things. And refused to take the drought I have for him until he is 'appeased', as he said."

"And what are these two requests?" Albus stopped just short of the bed, and made sure to speak softly. He didn't want Severus to interrupt them, when he could get a warning what to expect here and now, before having to confront his bad tempered friend.

"The first _demand,_ was that you were to be sent for, immediately."

"Well I am here, so that is a start. And the second?"

"…that Professor Consensio was also to be sent for…immediately."

"Alas, the one request I can not permit. She is in a very fragile state, and I _had_ intended to confront you about it." He sighed. "I fear for her Poppy. She has not left her room since the event, and consumed no food or drink. Dear Nymphadora reports that she has stopped crying, but now there are no signs of life from the room at all. I fear, I shall have to consent to a forced entry into her quarters, and have her removed to the infirmary."

"I should say so! Poor girl, she looked terrible when she ran out of here, nothing was going to stop her. Not even myself." Poppy took a deep breath, and walked forward. "Time to check on our potions master. Professor Snape?" she asked for permission to enter, and the tall silhouette turned his head to the curtain. "Professor Dumbledore is here now. Are you in a fit state to see him?"

"Yes." His voice was blank, giving nothing away or any implication on what mood he was in. "And Mss Consensio?" If it wasn't for the fact that this was Snape, that sounded almost hopeful.

"Ah…no."

"What?" he answered sharply. Poppy took a step back, and turned to face Dumbledore. He nodded for her to tell him why, and she did.

"Professor Consensio has refused to leave her room. She escaped herself only two days ago, against my best wishes, and has barricaded herself in her quarters. She is in quite a dangerous state." She added, frowning. She had taken an oath to preserve life, and it seemed as if this one was slipping away from her…

"What did you mean by that?" he said, even sharper than before. It made Poppy jump. Again Albus nodded, and Poppy obliged him.

"She hasn't eaten or drank anything for days. We are going to use force to bring her back to the infirmary, as we can only dread the state she will be in when we find her."

"Severus?" Albus spoke before Snape could reply. "May I come in my boy?"

"Yes." Again his voice was blank, and Albus pushed the curtains open. He slipped inside, and Poppy left them to it. She knew well enough not to get involved unless the patient's health was in danger. And from the tension she felt in the air, this was one of those times to listen from behind the curtain.

Albus took his half moon glasses off, and cleaned them on his robes near his chest.

"Now my boy, how are you feeling?" Albus replaced his spectacles, and looked to Snape. He was dressed in his black robes again, as he detested the hospital gowns. Although, he had his long billowing outer robes on the side chair, and his long hair was greasy and lank once more. That was a combination of potions, and being ill, as it were.

"How am I feeling?" he folded his arms, and looked as if he was about to approach the simple question with the same approach as he did to everything.

With malicious style. "Is that all you can say, headmaster?" he leered. "I am physically fit if that is what you mean."

"Good, because-"

"But." He interrupted, and Albus saw he would have to ride this one out.

Severus Snape was on a rampage, and there was no where to hide. "But I have a few questions for you myself, _Albus_."

Oh boy.

"I have been the most influential, beneficial asset to this faculty, giving my sweat, blood, loyalty and life to this school, to you, and have performed tasks that could wake the dead." He slowly rose to his feet. "I have been working for you both in, and out of school for centuries. I have reported every single detail of every single mission, report, collected item, Intel and interpretation on everything I have ever done of significance to not only yourself, but to the rest of the 'staff' and those snivelling fools at the ministry." His voice was filled with his famous venom, and his voice also started to grow louder with pent up frustration and anger. "I have risked my life and position year after year both necessarily, and unnecessarily for YEARS!" he glowered, his head of greasy hair falling to veil his furious face. "The dark lord, the wizard war, the death eaters, the ministry itself, HELL!" his knuckles grew a bleach white from how tight his fists were clenched. "Even against that _damn_ three headed mongrel 'fluffy', of that over sized Neanderthal of a care of magical creatures' teacher 6 years ago, because YOU couldn't hire _one _trustworthy defence against the dark arts teacher! When _I_ had already put forward a request for the position, and _shafted_ me for not only a dark lord sympathiser." He was livid. "But the Dark lord _himself_! I think, after all I have been through, after all I have done for you and the Wizarding world." He looked up, to angry to look at Albus. "For even _poor, little, Harry Potter_, you would think." He held the arch of his nose, and put the other fist on his side. "You would think you would have had the _common sense_ and the _decency_ to inform me not only that _the wolf_ was being hired." He paused. "_Again_." He grit his teeth. "But that you had taken it upon yourself to hire a God damn BANSHEE as the none-verbal, and Wandless magic's teacher. Wouldn't you agree!" he shouted, with his glower that made even Draco gulp, and in his voice that makes Neville want to cry.

And has. "Well?" he seethed, waiting for the Headmaster to reply.

Albus sighed, glad the storm was over, but ready for him none the less. You didn't live to be Dumbledore's age, and live through the things he has, without learning to forget fear and know what you are doing.

"Well Severus, that is a very good question. And I intend to answer it." Albus pushed his spectacles up his nose, and smiled softly at his enraged 'friend'. "Firstly, everyone _was_ informed on Mss Consensio's background, before we even considered accepting her application. We then re-evaluated our choice before sending off the acceptance letter, on a second meeting." He slipped one hand into his robes, and slowly disarmed the potion master, bit by bit. "You would have been aware of this fact, that I and the rest of the faculty had 'taken it upon ourselves to hire a Banshee', if you had attended _both_ or even _one_ of the meetings, my dear boy. And I did stress to you it would be important to attend the briefing the day before the start of term, but again, you decided to be elsewhere. Thus, this makes a _third_ opportunity that you passed up on to learn the truth about our dear Mss Consensio." He cleared his throat, and pulled out a small bag. "Although, I do agree that you have been a great asset to the Hogwarts _team_ and the Order, which is also a _team_. But we could not have done it without you, I confess. You have been very valuable to our cause Severus, and we are grateful." Snape's furious glare turned into a lesser scowl. "It is most unfortunate what has happened here, and all over the misinformation of the new Professor to you Severus my boy, yes indeed. The best way for us to progress and look forward from this, is for you to _attend _the meetings from now on, and for myself and the staff to keep you informed of all important facts. I shall see to this, personally my boy." He pulled a small yellow sweet from the bag. "Lemon drop?" Snape didn't even answer, he just raised a brow as if the small sugary sweet was an insult.

"Very well." He said after a few moments. "But why was Mss Consensio not brought as I summoned her, as I summoned you?"

"Because as already explained, she is for the moment, unreachable." He sighed, and dropped the sweet into the bag. "I fear she thinks you dead Severus, you certainly looked that way when we found you both. We had to stupefy dear Procella to stop her having a fit, upon seeing you like that. Or screaming again. And to think, she was only at low volume in Banshee tongue." He smiled slightly. "If she had been any louder, you _would_ have been dead. Another thing to be grateful of, I believe." He smiled brighter, and pulled a lemon drop out of the bag again. He put it in his mouth, and looked to Severus. "Are sure you won't have one?"

"No I will not." He said very sternly. "And what is this about her not eating or drinking for days. And she thinks I am dead?"

"Yes my dear boy. I believe she does, as she has been mourning your death terribly, thinking she has murdered." He frowned. "The odd thing was, Poppy said her symptoms were similar to that of a relapse, but she has never encountered this sort of situation before."

"Not again." Snape pulled his wand from his robes, and then threw them on. "In her rooms?"

"Yes." Dumbledore smiled knowingly.

He had never intended to organise a group to force their way in. what good would that do? It would be far more affective for Snape to _demand_ to enter her room, as he would, and make her realise she _hadn't_ killed him at all. She would realise she wasn't a murderer, come out, and be treated.

Three birds with one, dark potion master, stone.

"Right." He said to himself, and walked out of the curtain. He made Madam Pomfrey jump as he sneered at her, and stormed out of the infirmary.

"Oh no, not another one." She groaned. "Am I destined to have all my patients walk out on me before I can stop them?" she asked no one in particular, and jumped again when Albus replied.

"No, no you are not Poppy. For this is just the right time for him to leave, and for Mss Consensio to come back." He offered her a lemon drop, and she declined. "No? Very well. Oh, and would you be good enough to prepare another bed? I believe it will be needed soon."

Severus thought many things as he walked into the entrance hall, and turned away from his dungeons. He walked down the hall, and passed first Procella's classroom, and continued on.

_She thinks I'm dead. _

_She thinks she's done it again, killed again._

This went over and over in his mind, as he revisited the foreign memories of that whimpering little girl, and her dead family.

The family she killed.

Soon enough, he was at the end of the hall and facing the door to her quarters. He wondered what to do.

He had it down to three options.

A, knock on the door and wait for a reply.

B, bang his fist on the door and shout for her to answer the door right now, or he would blast it open.

C, forget the formalities, blast the door straight down and then yell at her for being so stupid, and then Imperio her all the way to the infirmary. Where he would continue to scold her for being ridiculous and self damaging, for no reason.

And at the moment, C was the most tempting.

_But what if none of those work?_ He thought just as he raised his hand. _They will have to work._ He shuck his head, and wore his usual stern mask.

He knocked three times, and waited.

No reply. _Well what was I expecting? She can't answer me. But she could open the bloody door._ He knocked again, keeping his temper in check.

No reply.

His teeth ground together now, finding it hard to contain himself.

BANG BANG BANG.

His fist beat down on the door, and yet again.

No reply.

"Professor Procella Consensio. If you do not open this Merlin forsaken door right this instant, I will Incendio this door so quickly, you won't be able to-" the door swung open.

Against his well, Snape's face softened slightly, as he looked down upon the mess that was Procella.

Her skin was pale, she had huge black bags under her eyes, her glorious blonde hair was lank and greasy, held back in a ribbon, and her emerald eyes that once shone so brightly, had red lines in her whites, and shadows in her green orbs. "…stop me…" Tears misted in her eyes, and slowly ran down her cheeks. She sobbed once, before stepping forwards. He was so entranced by her deathly cold eyes, that he didn't register she was in her nightgown.

Her shaking hands traced his face, as if afraid he was a mirage, and a smile formed on her rose lips. "I'm alive." Severus spoke softly, and lowered his fist. It had been ready to bang on the door again, but now hung by his side. His other hand slipped his wand into his pocket, and lifted her chin. "Why do you fear me?" her gratitude on a numinous level, left her face and she frowned.

He didn't know what made him say it, he just did. At the one time she probably couldn't take that question, he had asked it.

Procella swallowed, and brought her hands away from his face. And Snape didn't like how quickly one sentence, five words, had made her withdraw again.

When she took a step back into her room, he made sure to walk right inside. Better to not give her chance to lock him out, now that he got her door open.

Procella just looked at him, as if she no longer believed he was here. _I thought he was dead…I thought I killed him…_ "I see you were given the best view of the grounds." Severus spoke in his usual dreary voice, and looked out her window. Procella slowly walked towards him, and also looked outside. Well, she _looked_ to be looking outside, but she really looked up at him. "It wasn't your fault."

Again, his mouth ran away with him. That was twice now, and he didn't like it. But it seemed to do just the trick, as Procella looked up to him, her eyes showing just how lost and confused she was inside. He saw this, having the skill to read people like his potions books, and turned to face her. "I have completely recovered, I feel no injury nor memory of what happened to me once I blacked out." He said, as if giving a professional report. "I shall return to my lessons, as will you once given a medical examination. We shall get back to our duties, and no more will be said of this." He smirked. "Literally in your case." Oddly enough, this made her chuckle, and her eyes seemed to be that little bit lighter.

She pulled a roll of parchment from the table by her bed, and a quill danced on it with the simple prompt of her finger.

_Are you really alive?_

"No, I am a figment of your illustriously vivid imagination, conjured by the insecurities of your air headed mind, given form by your worst fear and most respected colleague." He said seriously, and then smirked. Especially when she chuckled again, and closed her eyes, as if finally admitting she was tired. "But you have yet to answer my question. I have answered yours, it is only fair you do me the same courtesy." She seemed to tense up. "Especially what I have had to go through to get a conversation out of you." She relaxed and chuckled again.

_Why am I sounding like Lupin?_ His voice was still as stern as ever, but what he was saying was almost…friendly? _ I think I better check in with Poppy before I leave Procella. I may have hit my head._

_And when did I start calling her Procella?_

He came back to the world of the living, when the sound of scribbling caught his attention.

_Your eyes. You remind me of someone._

And then scribbled a little smaller, as if the writer was reluctant to confess it,

_And you make me nervous._

Snape looked at the note, and from first glance knew what the first line meant.

_Her father. I have her father's eyes. When she looks into my eyes, she sees the same eyes that she made close._ He then returned to his usual attitude, upon reading the second line. _I make her nervous?_ "I make you nervous?" he raised a brow, and looked like he was back to usual, snarky, bad tempered normal self again. "What the hell do you mean, I make you nervous?" at the tone of his voice, she looked down, and stepped away. He sighed, and had to stop himself. _Remember Severus. She doesn't like upsetting people, because of her past. Those Banshees were angry with her, so in some twisted way, she might have thought it was her fault and refused to get people angry._

_This woman is twisted and needs to get a life._ He found himself thinking, and looked to her again. But his stern face was getting harder and harder to hold as he looked to her. _It's because she is so pathetic._ He told himself.

But his heart wasn't in it. "Very well. It is your opinion and I accept it." He ended that not soon enough for his liking. "Now, you will go to the infirmary. That is an order, not a request." He put it bluntly. "You look a mess, you smell a mess, and you are not fit to teach you class." He turned to leave. "So clean yourself up, and get back to lessons." He stood in the doorway. "Where you belong."

Procella smiled, and another tear fell down her face.

But for the first time ever, it was because she was happy, not sad.

_I didn't kill him. _

_I'm not a murderer!_ Procella jumped in the air and grinned madly, only to wish she could just die when she saw Snape was still in the doorway, looking at her. "Good to see you are enthusiastic towards your lessons." He remarked, and then left.

Snape hung back near his Dungeons, and sure enough, he saw a dressed Procella walking weakly towards the infirmary. She collapsed in the entrance hall, and he stepped towards her, but stopped as two other people ran to her.

He didn't know why, but when he saw Lupin and Tonks run to Procella, it made an angry monster shovel more fire into the pit of his stomach, and make it roar madly. Severus scowled as he saw Tonks cry and embrace Procella, only to make it a group hug with Lupin. They told her over and over again that Snape was alright, and that she was going to be fine too.

_Stupid fools. She would be 'alright' a lot faster if you didn't stop her getting to the infirmary._ He seethed, and that fire licked at his insides even more when Lupin pulled Procella up into his arms, and carried her out of sight. Closely followed by the pink haired Aura. Snape grit his teeth, and returned to his dungeons, where he was King.

_It wasn't them who got her to come out her room, or make her smile and chuckle was it? It was me, not them. But like always, the wolf and his crony-of-the-time, whether it be Sirius and Potter, or that Pink haired bimbo of his, they always take the credit. They think because they are Gryffindors they can to as they like, and look the hero all the time._ Snape brooded all the way to his private quarters. He even sulked in his comfy chair over his lesson plans. _Disgusting how he had his arms all over her. We are teachers and should be setting an example, not groping each other in plain sight of the students. They already have hormone control problems as it is, without their betters giving them the impression that that sort of behaviour is permissible. I should know, I am usually the one catching them after hours 'kissing and hugging' in the shadows._

_Pathetic Lupin and his heroic attitude._

_Pathetic pink haired bitch and her overzealous mother/bodyguard attitude._ Snape growled to himself, and gave up trying to read.

In the end, he had to reach for his own brewed sleeping drought, to knock himself out for the night. The list thing he thought, was what she had 'said'.

_And you make me nervous._

The five words that he used to shake her, were nothing like the five words she used to retaliate with.

_And you make me nervous._

It wasn't the words that disturbed him, but the steak that had started to ease away into a wedge, stung with guilt as he thought upon those five, measly words. But the _real_ disturbing part, was that he cared he made her nervous.

But why? He found her the most unbelievable, 'chipper' (when not mourning over his none existent death), shy, ridiculously dressed individual he had ever met. Almost as bad as dog-boy.

But if that was true, and it was.

Why was it _her_ face he saw before the lights went out? And why did he think back on her past, the past he experienced, and want to hold her close, and never, ever let go?

He didn't get these answers tonight, as he fell victim to his own potion.


	7. Chapter 7

"Now class. Today we shall be revising a potion from your third year, the ever famous shrinking potion." There would have been groans at that, if it weren't for the fact that the teacher was none other than Professor Snape, who would take 50 points from you for even a negative sigh. "The ingredients you will need to add to your pre-prepared cauldron, are as follows. One spatula of dried Caterpillar, a pinch of Daisy roots, a small veil of Leech juice, a Rat spleen, and one Abyssinian Shrivelfig. And for heavens sake, don't forget to peal your Shrivelfig before adding it to the potion." He sighed, as the 7th year pupils gathered their ingredients, the door opened and two students came in by the scruff of their necks. Filch was grinning with his yellow teeth, and pushed them both inside.

"Sorry to disturb your lesson professor."

"It is too late for that I fear, as my lesson is disturbed. And apologies are worthless." He mumbled slightly, and couldn't care less. Until he saw just who the students were. "Potter! Draco Malfoy!" he stood up from his desk, his wand in his robe pocket and his face in a scowl. His shoulder length hair was tucked behind his ears for now, and was greasy from a full day of potions. This was last period after all.

Both boys were leering at each other, absolutely filthy and even Malfoy's perfect gelled back blonde hair, was ruffled with a few leaves poking out at odd angles. He tried to straighten himself off, but couldn't quite manage it. Harry however, looked livid and didn't even attempt to brush himself off. "What is the meaning of this!"

"Excuse me Professor, but these two are the reason I had to interrupt your lesson. They _were_ supposed to be in this lesson, and others today, but after their behaviour first period in Wandless magics, they had to 'help me' gather seedlings from the roots of the Whomping willow." He snickered, and then grinned. "They will be making up for what work they have missed, as homework in their own time. _And_ they have at least one detention with each teacher, including you sir if you wish."

"You disturbed your Non verbal lesson?" he clenched a fist on his desk, and glared down at Harry. "And what gave you that right?"

"I was standing up for someone who didn't have the voice to!" Harry scowled back, and pointed to Malfoy. "If you need to blame someone, blame him! He made Professor Consensio run out of the classroom crying her eyes out!" without thinking, Snape placed his rage upon Draco, and made him whimper.

"Is this true boy?" he had never used that tone of voice on Malfoy, and shocked everyone.

"No sir! Potter attacked _me_!" he pointed to his black eye. "See!"

"I want the full explanation at the end of class. For now, pair up." They scowled at each other. "_with someone else._" That made them relax. "And _try_ to complete the Shrinking potion on the board. Then, while the rest of the students leave for the day, _you two_ shall stay behind and report to me _everything_ that happened in your first lesson today. Understood?"

"Yes sir." They both said with a glare at each other, and walked to the opposite sides of the classroom.

Snape sat down behind his desk, put his fists under the table and took deep breaths.

The hour couldn't go quick enough.

But finally it was spent, and labelled vials all came to the front, and he looked them over.

Longbottom's was sizzling in its container, and only Granger seemed to have the right colour _and_ texture to the potion.

Surprise surprise, Potter and Draco's potions were both instant failures, possibly because of their lateness and reluctance to stop glaring at each other across the room.

"Now get out of my sight." He spat at the class after the bell, and leaned on his elbows on the desk. Narrowing his eyes on the two disgruntled boys. "But not you two. Come here, sit down." He ordered, and Draco was the first to do as he was told. He was smirking, as he knew Snape would always favour him over Harry.

"Well sir." He began. "This morning-" but Severus snapped his hand up, and silenced him. "But I thought you wanted to know what happened?"

"I do. But not from either of your lips."

"No way!" Harry jumped up, and held his wand ready. Draco had no idea what the two of them seemed to know that he didn't, and became agitated. "You have no right to!"

"Just for that, I will not be needing young Malfoy." He looked to Draco. "Leave boy. I will call for you if you are needed." Draco couldn't think of a better result. Snape already seemed to be on his side.

But what if Potter was convincing enough…and he wasn't there to defend himself?

"Couldn't I just wait here sir?" His voice was as nervous as his expression, and Snape raised a brow.

"No boy. I told you to leave, and meant it. Now go." Malfoy gulped, and saw the look in his potion's master's eyes. He was serious.

"Yes sir…" he slowly dragged himself out of the classroom, and off to the Slytherin common room.

"Now."

"No." Harry raised his wand, ready. "I am of age now, I can protect myself if you even try it." He growled. "Sir."

"I still have permission from Dumbledore to use this method on you, for training purposes, and investigational purposes. And I am your teacher." He stood up. "You will do as I say, boy!"

"Fine." He said calmly, and lowered his wand.

Snape narrowed his eyes at him.

He had not been expecting him to give up so easily… "Alright. This way, you will see just how right I was, and how _wrong_ Malfoy was." He said confidently, and put his wand away. "I won't even stop you." Harry looked to him defiantly, and smirked. "Well go on then. Sir." Snape walked around the table and looked down at him, very condescendingly.

"I will 'go on then' whenever I see fit, boy." He raised his wand, aimed it right between Harry's eyes. Harry took his glasses off, and put them in his pocket. He remembered al too well how many times he had to get Hermione to fix his glasses, and wouldn't have them broken again over this git. "Legilimens." he spat, and Harry growled in pain. He had forgotten how painful this was. At least because he wasn't trying to resist, it wasn't hurting as much, or for as long. Harry's eyes lulled half shut, and Snape entered his mind fully. "Got you."

**_Flash back_**

Severus found himself stood in the classroom, _her_ classroom. He recognised his Slytherin Gryffindor class, the 7th year, and located Draco sat with his friends, Crab and Goyel. Not to mention Zabini and Blaise.

The golden trio were even present, and all where chattering happily. It appeared that the main topic of conversation was him, as he walked around the room.

"Did you hear about Snape? I heard he had a fight with Consensio."

"I heard she started it."

"I heard he did, and he slapped her across the face."

"Well _I_ heard he tried to rape her." Severus snapped round, and glared at the boy. It was none other than Ronald Weasley, who was sniggering his head off. "I bet he thought he was flirting with her, and tried the line 'hay baby, want to come down into my dungeon and make a skelly-grow potion with me'." He laughed, and many other Gryffindors did to. Snape made a mental note to make all hell for the boy next lesson…or just find him and jinx him slightly…or a lot…

"Well I bet that _would _be his chat up line. If he had the balls to go after a woman. He strikes me as the gay type." Severus glared at the boy who was leaning over his desk, and joining in with Ron's childish banter. It was Dean Thomas, and he was certainly enjoying himself with Ron, he thought. "I mean come on. What kind of a guy lurks around in the shadows, has hair like that, and tries to bone girls? They don't, that's what. I bet he is having an affair with Filch."

"That's disgusting!" Hermione pulled a grossed out face, and looked to the next page of her book.

"Well, their hair is the same. And they are both disgusting old men."

"Disgusting old men! I am not a disgusting old man!" Severus added Dean to his death list, and grit his teeth together.

He was not a disgusting, or an old man.

He wasn't.

"You do know he is the same age as Professor Lupin." Hermione stated."

"He certainly acts like he is." Dean sulked slightly, and then chuckled. "I bet he went to the hospital wing, because Consensio bitch slapped him so hard, she broke his nose."

"And then she was so traumatised by the experience, she had to go to the infirmary too." Ron laughed his head off with him.

"That's enough." Harry growled.

"What?"

"It isn't funny. Consensio was missing for the rest of the week, really ill, and you are making jokes. They could have been attacked for all we know. It isn't fair or funny Ron." Ron shrugged, when the door opened. Snape never thought Harry would be the one to defend him. And he was reluctant to believe it.

His attention was taken again, when the door opened. He was stunned, when the bright smiling face of Procella walked inside. Her skin was a healthy peach colour again, her emerald eye bright and glistening with joy, her hair glorious and golden, curly and bouncing with each step she took, her side fringe covering her right eye, and smiled to everyone.

"Dressed as a gypsy again, Mss Consensio." He chuckled to himself, as he looked over her.

Flat black slip on shoes, a long black swishing layered gypsy skirt to her ankles, but he was frozen to the spot when he really looked at her. The skirt had a slit down one side, shoving the lower half of her right thigh downwards, and her long smooth, shapely leg. She had a black corset on with a material black rose in the centre of her breasts, and a crisscross pattern on the bust of it. But where she usually wore a long white gypsy shirt underneath, there was none. Her arms were clad only with dainty bangles around her wrists, all different colours, and her shoulders and neck, were bare. Her cleavage was enormous and Snape thought he was going to have a nosebleed, like the other students. Neville even fell off his chair at the back. She wore a black witch hat with a silver buckle that hung to one side. "Stunning…"

"Please Mss!" Hermione threw her hand up immediately. "I found that report you wanted."

"Report?" Harry asked in whisper. He hoped he didn't miss some homework while he was daydream…at her…

"Oh, I asked for the history on verbal magic, and I was given it as a report." Hermione explained with a proud smile. "302 pages." She pushed her thick roll of parchment forwards on her desk, and everyone put their wands away.

Procella nodded and picked the report up on her way to the front. She then put her satchel down, and sat _on_ the desk. One leg elegantly folded over the other, and she beamed at the class.

_Damn girl, always smiling._ He rolled his eyes, but still smiled.

Why not? No one could see him.

He was impressed when she flicked her wrist at the black board, and writing appeared.

_It is time to demonstrate the spells you have learned so far. The Accio, and the Wingardium Leviosa. Wands away, and I will come round you one at a time. You may use this time to practise, and good luck!_

There was a smiley face drawn underneath the message, and Snape scoffed.

He followed her around the classroom, and observed her testing Longbottom. He looked constipated, and had his eyes closed.

"Damn fool. Not even looking at the quill." He then looked over his shoulder, and saw Draco and Zabini tip toeing across the room. "Truancy is not allowed." He was about to lock the door and shout at them, but remembered his is a memory.

"I can't Professor. It won't move." Neville huffed, and Procella held his hands in hers. She gave him an encouraging smile. She then raised a brow, and stood up. Snape watched as both Malfoy and Zabini shot off the ground, and thrashed their arms and legs out in shock. They looked down at Procella, who was wagging her finger at them, but still smiled. She guided them with her hands, and lowered them into their seats. A small sand timer flew from the front desk, and into her hand. It had green sand in it, and she held it out to them. She then turned it 10 times, and then put it down on her desk.

"What the hell…?" Zabini looked to Malfoy, and then put his hand up. "What did you just do?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione rolled her eyes at them. "She just docked 10 points from Slytherin."

"WHAT!"

"You can't do that!" Draco then stood up, and glared at her. "I will tell Snape again. That worked last time." He threatened, and Snape was furious.

So, he was being used by Malfoy to get back at his teacher.

"I am no one's tool." He narrowed his eyes, ashamed of his behaviour.

"And I will tell him you used magic on me again. Let's see if you are still smiling then, Consensio. I hate this stupid subject." He spat. "I am a wizard, I have a wand, why do I need to know how _not_ to use it? This is a waste of my time!"

"Shut up Malfoy!" Harry stood up, and glared at him.

"Oh yes, you would stand up for her, wouldn't you? Goody little Potter. The chosen one. Well, bone her for all I care. I am out of here." Then the door locked, and for the first time, Snape saw Procella with a stern look of anger on her face. "Go on, try and stop me." Draco dared her. He then smirked, and looked very arrogant. "I will just tell Snape. After you attacked him, he will be looking for any excuse to get you fired, or worse." He lingered on that, and Severus saw her glare falter into a frown. "I have Potions last Professor. Do you really dare do anything to anger Snape? Have you really ever seen him mad?" Procella took a step back, and looked down.

If it wasn't because this was a memory, Snape could have doe a number of unspeakable things to him right then. "He was a death eater after all. So you have to think of what he got up to in his free time." Procella actually gasped.

"My God…she didn't know…" He couldn't believe it. Procella looked so white, he thought she was going to faint.

"And there are some of us who think he still is. A death eater that is…" seeing the affect he had had on her, Draco had the look of utter victory on his face. "So open the door Consensio, or have the wrath of Snape. Your choice." He then pulled out his wand. "Open it or else."

"Watch it Malfoy." Harry pulled his own wand out, and pointed it threateningly at Draco. "I think you have said enough."

"Are you threatening me, Potter?"

"Yes, I am! Because you are threatening Professor Consensio." He looked ready to kill Malfoy, and lowered into a duelling stance.

"She should be used to it from what I've heard. Isn't that right, little swan?" her hands flew up to her mouth, and she backed off swiftly to her desk. Severus reached out to grab her shoulders, but his hands went through her. _What did Malfoy do?_ He glared round, to see Harry was straddling Malfoy, and beating his face in. that explains the black eye, but he hadn't seen who started the fight. Instead, he had followed the cowering teacher with no voice, who was now shaking.

"Professor! Do something!" Hermione pleaded, and tried to pull Harry of Draco with the help of Ron. "Professor!"

But Procella held her face in her hands, and Snap crouched before her.

"Procella…snap out of it!" he demanded, but she couldn't hear him. Procella then ran straight through her, and out of the classroom, tears falling from her face. "Procella!"

_**End flash back**_

"Procella!" Snape opened his eyes, and looked around. He was back in his classroom, and looked down at Harry. He was leaning forward in his chair, and hung his head forward, his hands in his hair.

"So will you take your precious Malfoy's side after that? After he tried to stun her, and didn't stop until I used an expelliarmus, and then yes. Yes I _did_ hit him first…but can you understand why sir?"

"Get out." He looked up, confused.

"Sir?" Snape had his back to him at this point, and still gripped his wand tightly.

"Are you deaf as well as useless Potter? I said get out!" Harry threw his bag over his shoulder, and stormed out. He had wanted a bit more of a result than 'get out'.

Severus walked to his rooms, and had a large glass of firewhiskey in his hands.

He had a lot to analyse here.

He had a few Gryffindors he wanted to torment for…comments…

He had to get a better understanding with Draco, and for some reason he wanted to use the Crucio curse on him.

And then there was Procella. She didn't know he was a death eater, from her reaction to that news. Snape took a large mouthful of whiskey, and closed his eyes in thought.

_But why did 'little swan' have to do with anything? _

_Draco said she was used to being threatened, and then called her little swan. Why? Why would such a name affect her so?_ He paced his room, and thought back.

The most important thing he thought, was to find out if it was the pet name, or the fact that Draco said people still thought he was a death eater, that scared her off.

_Memo to self, schedule a stern talk with the boy._ He then put the empty glass down, and pushed the door open. He walked all the way out of the dungeons, and into the main hall. Snape saw Lupin and Tonks leave the corridor to her room, and waited for them to vanish up the stairs. He then stealthily made his way to her room, and knocked on her door.

He had wondered why she hadn't been at dinner…

"Professor Consensio." He knocked on the door, and waited. He heard movement, but no direct answer. "Procella." The door opened slowly, and he looked down at her. "I have been waiting, it is rude to keep people waiting Ms Consensio." He thought the best approach would to be normal, or she would suspect he knew. "Well? Are you going to stare at me all day? Or let me in?" she then nodded, and let him inside her rooms. He didn't really care what her things looked like, he just looked to her. "Why where you not at dinner Ms Consensio?" he spoke professionally. But he soon wished he had waited to confront her, as her rooms was not his own territory. He was in her domain now, her rules. He turned to look at her again, but she was now looking out of the window. Very much like when he had been here last. So he retook his place next to her, and looked very impersonal. He looked down at her, unable to keep his eyes off her, and saw a smart quill writing for her. Only her finger pointed to it.

_A stressful day, you could say._

"Students? Classes? What do you find stressful?" he tried to keep it vague.

_Nothing to do with school, I assure you._

"Then what?"

This was strange. Why was Severus Snape, here, in her rooms, again, when she was once again upset by something? And again the something concerned him. She knew he didn't care, so why was he here? She had managed to smiled and convince her friends there was nothing wrong with her, but Snape was not easily appeased. This would be a lot harder.

_I was reminded of something I would have rather forgotten today. Nothing more._ She showed him a strong smile, and nodded. _But thank you for the concern._

"I assure you Ms Consensio, concern had nothing to do with it." He scowled, and turned his entire body to face her. "And I would like to know what exactly you mean by 'reminded of something rather forgotten'." He demanded. He was much more comfortable like this, taking the direct approach. "Anything to do with your Banshee history?"

_It's more complicated than that._

Procella turned her back and held herself. She then walked away from him slightly, until he put a hand on her shoulder. "I assume you know of the order Ms Consensio?" her head raised. He was getting close… "As a main member, I will need to know what past memory surrounding you heritage or not, even f it is unpleasant or small in importance. I even have the authority to use Veritaserum if I feel inclined to." _That should get her attention._ "So I suggest you tell me willingly." She walked away from him and sat downs lowly on her bed. Her eyes were closed, and her quill continued to write on the paper. They both then hovered before him. he was impressed, she wasn't even looking at them.

_You have no right to use your position on the order to poke around in my past, good sir. And I would like you to leave, now._ she sniffled.

"I will not be forced to do anything, when conducting an investigation." He stood before her, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Not until I at lest get a lead." Then, Procella jumped up and grabbed his left wrist. "What are you doing!" she pulled his sleeve up, and held his arm up.

His dark mark. "So you know." He looked into her eyes. "I assure you I no longer hold The dark lord, as _my_ lord. I work in the Order of the Phoenix to prevent his return. I am not a death eater."

Procella pushed a fresh piece of parchment into his left hand.

_There is your clue. Now leave._ She turned her back to him, and he looked to her"I don't understand." She whimpered, and reached behind her. She started to unfasten the back of her black corset, and Snape's eyes opened in alarm. She dropped it to the floor, and he saw her smooth, beautiful back…

…and the large, dark mark on her lower back. He looked to her left wrist, and then back to her mark.

They were identical, it was real. "You were a death eater?" she shuck her head, and reached for a night robe from the side of her bed. She fastened it around her, her head hung forward.

_You have your clue, now leave._ Her voice rang in his head with sorrow, and Snape immediately felt her mental walls raise up again.

Without a word, he left, his mind spinning.

Why would she have the dark mark on the small of her back, when it was specifically put on the left forearm? Why would she have it at all? Was she a death eater?

No, she shuck her head. She couldn't have been a death eater.

But then, why would she have the dark mark?

These questions plagued his mind all night, and into the next morning. He needed to talk to Albus about this. He would now something about this, and Snape wouldn't leave his office until he had his answers, answered.


	8. Chapter 8

"Hurry up! We will be late!" Tonks ran her hands through her shocking pink hair, looking in the mirror. "The train to Hogsmede will be leaving soon!" it was Saturday now, and Tonks had decided that Procella's first week had been stressful enough, so a treat was in order. And it would be a great excuse for them to bond. Shackles was doing her shift today. "We can go shopping for a while down the main streets, say hello to the Weasley twins, they always save a box of erotic chocolates for me, and we can get together in the three broomsticks for lunch."

_I have several comments on that. 1, I have never really been shopping for the fun of it. It sounds fun. 2, erotic chocolates?_

"Heh heh, well."

_Never mind. I don't even want to know. And 3, get together?_

"Oh yes. Well, you are a new teacher and you have had a rough week…so we thought it would be nice, Remus and me, to throw you a welcoming party. It's only a drink in the pub, but all the teachers have been invited."

_How thoughtful. Thank you so much Nymphadora._

"Gosh, don't call me that." She giggled. "Call me Tonks. Everybody else does." Tonks fixed her hair again in the mirror, and looked over her appearance. She wore black high heel boots, ankle boots with witch laces, bright pink and black striped long socks, a knee high black skirt that came out at the ends, (puffy), a black corset top with long black sleeves, and the ties of the top were pink across the chest, and a long black cape tied around her neck. Her hair was short today, and her bubblegum pink hair was flicked out off her face at the ends. She wore black mascara, and see-through lip gloss. Her witch hat was black, with a pink belt around the base, and a silver wolf and moon buckle in the centre.

Tonks looked at the time, and squealed girlishly. "Are you ready yet?"

_Yes, just._ Procella opened her bathroom door, and held her arms out for inspection. "Nice, very nice." Procella did a twirl for her, and chuckled. She wore an exact copy of what Tonks was wearing, with a difference.

Her boots were scarlet, she wore semi transparent red tights, her puffy skirt was red, as was her corset top. But she didn't have pink ties, she had thick red straps clipping over with a silver square buckle. There were eight all up the front. Her neck and cleavage were bare, and she wore off the shoulder straps, and elbow long scarlet gloves.

You could tell Tonks had dressed her. Especially with her lips painted blood red, and her long lashes black. "Now close the cape so no one can see." Procella nodded, and closed her black cape. "Ok, let's go." The only thing you could see other than her cape, was her long wavy golden hair, and her curly fringe covering her right eye. The two women walked out of the castle, and into the waiting crowd to get on the train to Hogsmede.

_Are you looking for someone?_ Tonks blushed and stopped scanning the crowd. "Who me? No, not at all."

_Legilimenst here. _"Oh, yeah, heh heh…I might have been…" Procella raised her blonde brow at her, as they got on the train. "Alright, I was."

_Who?_

_Remus_

_Ah, thought so._ Procella chuckled. But Tonks cheeks were bright red. They walked down to the teacher's section of the train, and Procella looked inside their carriage.

Her heart sank, her eyes widened slightly and she forgot to breath. There, sat with his nose in a thick novel, was Professor Snape. But Lupin was there to. "Right in we go. Oh, there is only one seat left."

_I'll sit somewhere else._ Procella quickly replied. After using her Legilimency, Snape looked up and saw her. "Oh come on, we can squeeze in." Tonks chuckled.

_No, you sit with Remus. I will sit somewhere else. Oh I'll be fine._ She assured with a smile, and couldn't leave quickly enough. That was obvious, and Snape noted it.

_Great, now where to sit?_ She asked no one in particular, and looked through carriage doors. They were all filled with students, and she full accepted she would have to stand up all the way there, when…

"Professor?" Procella looked back, and saw Harry Potter stood half in an half out a carriage.

"Are you lost Professor?" His red head friend popped his head out.

"I bet she doesn't have anywhere to sit." Hermione appeared stood over Ron, and Harry seemed to beam at her.

"Well come sit with us Professor!" he said eagerly, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron just snickered, and jabbed him in the ribs playfully. "Ouch." Procella nodded with a smile, amused by their antics. She entered their carriage, and the door shut. As soon as she sat down, Harry swarmed her with questions. "Are you alright Professor? How long was it before they let you out of the infirmary?Did you tell Dumbledore about it? Did you come alone?"

"And what's your star sign." Ron added with a chuckle, and Harry elbowed him back painfully. They were wearing their jeans today, and Harry wore a large red coat, Ron a blue one, and Hermione a pink one and a woolly pink hat and gloves. She gulped, and pulled out her pad and paper. Again. _I hate using these darn things._ Procella wrote down her answers with a smile.

_I am very well Harry, thank you for your concern. I have been 'released' a few days now, and I think you of all people should know that the headmaster is well informed about everything that happens in his castle. And I did not come alone. My friend Tonks, you know her I believe, an assigned Aura, is in the teacher's carriage. But there wasn't enough room so we spilt up. _

"Good thing Harry was well on alerts for you. Ouch!" Harry hit Ron over the head, and gave him a meaningful look. "Yeah, alright." He grumbled.

"Boys." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So, we're off to Ron's brother's joke shop. Want to come with us?"

"Actually, Tonks said something about us going there later. The Weasley twins?"

"Wow!" Harry and Ron jumped as Hermione spoke out, in her own voice, answering for Procella. "Neat trick."

"Thank you. But it is no 'trick'." Hermione looked to Procella. "Is this a mild state of possession?" "Yes Hermione, it is." She answered herself. "Fascinating. Where did you learn it?"

"Now I _know_ that was Hermione." They all laughed at Ron. "But seriously. It's Saturday. Leave that for school Herm."

"Oh fine." She pouted. "I think Hermione's interest in her education is very inspiring." "Thank you professor." "You are quite welcome."

"Wow, stop, confusing." Ron blinked as he tried to keep up with the one way one way conversation.

"This is odd. I feel perfectly normal, and yet my mouth moves and words form, and I dint feel it." "That is perfectly normal Ms Granger."

"So." Harry interrupted. "If you are going to the Weasley's wizardly wheezes, maybe we could meet up?"

"We shall see. I fear Ms Tonks wants to take me shopping for the most of the morning." She chuckled herself, and Hermione continued for her. "Though if we do meet up, I will be sure to stop and say hello." Procella chuckled and looked out of the window. "Gosh this train is fast. I could have sworn we had only just left Hogwarts a moment ago."

The train pulled up to the station, and they got off the train. The students were released first, and Procella bid the trio goodbye through Hermione. As the swarm of students bustled past her, she looked over their heads to look for Tonks. But as of yet, her bubblegum pink hair, that was very distinguishable, was no where in sight. Even if she had her hat on, she would have stuck out. But she couldn't see her.

_She's probably not off the train yet._ Procella stood, waiting patiently in her long black cape and her visible emerald eye scanned the crowd again. It got bigger and bigger, and she could no longer stand still. The hoard of people pushed her back and she couldn't call out for them to stop of someone to help her. She had to grab onto the side of a shop and pull herself into the doorway, before she could break free.

At least, she breathed easy and watched in awe/horror as they filtered out of the train and deeper into Hogsmeade. Procella looked up at the shop, and raised a brow. Honeydukes Sweetshop hung on a sign out front, and her nose was enticed by the sweetest aromas. Procella's feet grew a life of their own, and she walked inside the shop.

"Why hello there!" A Jolly man that most knew as Ambrosius Flume, the owner of the sweet shop, welcomed her from behind the counter. His great smile was contagious, and drew Procella further into the shop. "Well, what a lovely young lady. Why don't you come and try these tester chocolates Mmm?" he lifted up a silver tray of small milk chocolate, dark, and white chocolate balls. "Chocoballs. In all the chocolates, filled with strawberry mousse and clotted cream. The best I have ever had in stoke, and you can try one if you like." Procella walked up to the desk, drinking in all the rich, delicious smells from al around her. She looked down at the tray, and smiled to him. She then nodded, and looked back to the tray. "I have always believed that chocolate can be used to define who you are. Go on, pick one." Her hand hovered for a moment over the tray, while she decided which she wanted. "Ah, good sir. Why don't you try one of Honeydukes finest Chocoballs you have ever tasted? Free!" she froze as a strong, pale hand took the nearest dark Chocoball, and she looked up, the chocolates forgotten. Severus Snape looked the ball over like he would a pupil, with scrutiny, and then (reluctantly from the look on his face) put it in his mouth. He chewed it, and swallowed. "What do you think? Don't you think the Pretty young lady should try one?"

"They are very acceptable." He said calmly. "Try one if you wish." Procella forced herself to look back to the tray, more than shocked to see _Snape_ in this kind of shop, and finally took one. A white one.

"Ah, I thought so. White. From the moment I first saw you I knew you would pick that one. Chocolate can say a lot about a person. You are sweet, bubbly, soft and creamy. Not to mention fruity." She blushed slightly and smiled. "And the gentleman beside you is harder, with a misleading dark appearance. Where the where a secret delight hides for those who dare to crunch." The man chuckled. "Please, do recommend this new batch to your friends, or even strangers! Could I interest you in a box, Miss?" He offered her a red love heart box, with a white ribbon tied in a bow on the front. "Only 3 galleons! 2 if you by another box! That is a saving of 4 galleons!" Procella was still sucking on her sweet, lost in heaven as the smooth milky chocolate, cream, and strawberry mixed and melted on her tongue. "Too good for words, ay?" He beamed, impressed with his own goods.

"You could say that." Snape placed a hand on her back. "We shall surely remember our visit here and we must unfortunately take our leave. Consensio." Procella nodded thanks to Ambrosius Flume, and followed Snape out of the shop. "I saw you made the common mistake every fresh blood makes when emerging the express train with the overzealous children." He droned, paying more attention to holding her arm and guiding her through the busy streets somewhere. And she could have sworn he was looking out to make sure they weren't being followed…or even just seen. "Always wait 15 minutes as the minimum for them to leave the train. Or get dragged in the undertow. I saw you amidst the students. Next time, I advise you wait." He pulled her into an alley, where they were very much alone. The light seemed to have become dull, and the people around her were horrifically grotesque. They were dressed in rags, and Snape had to death stare one of them not to haggle them into buying what looked suspiciously like human fingers… windows were smashed, and the hobble paving beneath her feet was harsh and a lot bumpier than the main street she had been on.

Snape dragged her down a set of steep steps, where it all got worse.

It looked like an underground. "You will stay by my side and never leave it. You will do as I say at all times, and keep up." He ordered, again concentrating on getting her to their destination, not his voice or her. Procella pulled against his arm, wanting to go back. But when she saw his stern eyes look to her, she froze, and became far easier to drag down the street. No one seemed to care a tall man in long black robes dragging a young woman down the street with one iron grip hand on her upper left arm. At last, he pushed her into what looked like a run down pub, and she went stumbling forwards first.

It had dark mahogany bar side, silver and wood bar stools, round wooden tables and lots of hooded drunkards sprawled over them.

Why on Earth would Snape bring her here? Procella instantly turned on her heels to leave, when she collided smack bang into the rock hard chest of the man who had brought her here. She stepped back and rubbed her nose. Snape rolled his eyes, and grabbed her elbow. Procella yanked it back, and again, tried to leave. She didn't like the look, the smell, or the feel of this place. She wanted to go back to Honeydukes, safe, warm, bright and cheery Honeydukes. But Snape hooked both his arms under hers and bared them over her shoulders. He dragged her, mutely kicking and screaming into a back room. It looked to be the restaurant section of the pub, as these people were not drunk, but eating. And they were all sat upright, still in black hoods, but conversing like civilised people over their meal. It was close to lunch, she thought. There was a classical British composition playing melodically at just the right sound level, and the lighting here was almost…romantic. She then noticed that the floors were a well kept green carpet, and people were sat in twos on the round black wood tables, and classy looking cushion chairs. This was like nothing she saw before, nothing like the front of the pub. She didn't get to just look for long, as Snape deposited her on a chair in the very back of the room in a deep corner, and then shoved the table. It pinned her in the corner, cornering her in the perfect sense of the word. "Now, hood up." He pulled his own up, and raised a brow when she didn't. "Hood, up." He growled sternly, and she couldn't pull it over her head quickly enough. "Good."

"How can I help you?" A tall woman with long white blonde hair tied back in a low ponytail, in a black and white waitress outfit, but with black slacks, no skirt or dress, asked. She held a note pad and hovered a quill above it, waiting for their orders. "A drink while I get your menus?"

"Two empty glasses. I will produce the water."

"Mr Snape, you never order drinks." The waitress chuckles, and batted her grey eyes at him. She was stick thin, and had very high cheek bones. She obviously thought herself pretty.

"My dear, you are very young. You should know not to address your customers by their name, nor their title in this place." He reprimanded her like any student at Hogwarts. But he always looked to Procella. She however, was watching the waitress.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry sir." She bowed her head with a cheeky smile, and wrote down the order. "Two empty glasses for table 7." She then walked off to the kitchen.

Procella clicked her fingers, and a parchment and quill appeared before her. She then grabbed it and wrote furiously into the parchment. Showing her mood…

She thrust the paper at him, and he read to himself.

_Where are we, what are we doing here, and what am I doing here?_

"My dear, you are my wife." He smirked evilly, and looked to the side. Procella had her mouth open. "Don't the other couples here look happy, darling?" he whispered to her, and she gripped her fists on the table. He then chuckled. "Oh, a little game of hangman. Very well, I will play." He then wrote down on the paper, and gently slipped it back to her.

_We are in the secret section of the Atrum Amor. Where only the purebloods and 'union members' are permitted. We are having a meal, and you are here to act as my wife. As you have no doubt observed, only married or courting couples are permitted entry._

Procella looked up at him, hoping this was one big joke. But when he didn't show any sign of smirking at her and saying something Snarky like 'you fool, you fell for it'…she gulped.

He was serious.

And she thought again on the note. _Union members? Members of what?_

She wrote again on the note, and handed it back a little nicer than before. He noticed and nodded. "Ah, you are winning my dear. I am terrible with continents." He read the new message.

_Why am I here as your wife? And what union?_

Snape chuckled as he read this, and covered the paper up just in time for the waitress to return.

"Sir, your glasses." She placed them before Snape, and threw a dirty look towards her. _She must be smitten with Snape something rotten._

"Thank you."

"And your menus sir."

"Good. Now please, I wish to be…alone with my wife."

"A special occasion sir?" She pushed her breasts up into his view slightly, and Procella looked away and rolled her eyes. What? She could have Snape if she wanted him. Procella didn't even want to be here. She looked back however, when Snape passed her the glass. She reached out for it, and Snape quickly, but gently held her hand in his. She realised this was some sort of signal to the girl to leave him alone, as he was 'taken'. But she waited for his answer, even when he muttered 'aguamenti', filling her glass. When he refused to let her hand go, Procella brought the glass to her lips with her left hand. Her _free_ hand. "Sir?"

"Yes, my wife's pregnancy." Procella almost gagged on her water, and gulped it down painfully. "Are you alright dear? Did it go down the wrong hole?" she spluttered slightly, but nodded to him with a smile. It was a fake smile, but that didn't matter.

"Well, I will give you _three,_ time to order." The girl left, and Procella looked to his eyes, almost demanding for an explanation in her silence. She bushed and looked down defiantly when he snickered and chuckled evilly at her situation.

"I had to get rid of her. He will not come unless it is just the two of us." She raised her brow, giving him all the question he needed. "You shall see soon enough who I mean." He then saw her looking at him strangely, as if waiting for him to do something. He raised his own brow, and didn't understand. That was, until she blatantly looked to their hands. He was still holding her hand in one of his. He then smirked evilly, knowing what she wanted. "We have to give a good show, dear." She blushed with an uncomfortable scowl, and looked away from him to the wall. She tried to tug her hand free, but his grip on her hand tightened at just the right time, and stopped her. "Dear." He warned once, and then looked over the menu. "Are you a vegetarian or anything ridiculous like that?" she shuck her head, still looking away from him. "Good. I will order for you. You have to be careful what you order here. Thus our empty glasses." He bluntly, and scanned the silver menu with his eyes.

How could he? How could he drag her down here, to be her wife, for some guy to come over to them? Who was he waiting for? Why did it even matter? Why her! Was it because she was conveniently there? She wondered why Snape would go into a sweet shop. He had been looking for her.

But then…why her? He wouldn't have come into the shop, and dragged her all that way, when he could have dragged anyone from the order or the teaching staff, or at random!

_Wait…of course. I can't blow his cover! I can't talk! That bastard! I can't talk, so he has me as his accomplice, because I can't contradict anything he says or let anything important slip! Bastard! _ She scowled to the wall, and didn't like the way he suddenly started to rub circled into the back of her hand. Even through the silk red glove, it was strangely soothing. And that disturbed her more than anything.

"Can I take your order now sir?" the girl was back, and she had undone a few more buttons of her shirt. _Little slut._ She spat mentally, and wished she could just grab the girl, make her sit here in her place, and run for it. But that was another reason she was complying. She had no idea where here was, or how to get back safely. Procella _needed_ Snape to keep her safe.

"Yes, two bowls of tomato, basil and leak soup please."

"Thank you. Anything else sir?" She turned her back to Procella, and leaned her hip on the table, in front of Snape.

"No, thank you." He said through grip teeth, and Procella chuckled at him. This earned her a death stare, which quickly shut her up and look down at her lap. "Darling, are you in pain? From the baby?" he forced a voice of concern, and she looked up. He still held her hand. "I hope you like soup." She saw him pass the paper back to her, with a response.

_You are here as my wife, as you are the perfect candidate for the moment with my resources. _Procella knew what that meant. She had thought of it while he looked over the menu.

_And look at me. You will see of which union I speak._ Procella raised a brow, and looked up. Snape released her hand, and pulled the sleeve of his left arm up.

Until she could see the start of his dark mark.

She gasped, and Snape grabbed her hand again with both of his this time. "My dear, does it hurt? Did you take your stomach easing potion this morning?" Procella forced a nod, and looked away.

_The death eaters. Everyone in here are death eaters and their family! _Procella looked cautiously around the room. It would make sense, as to why the waitresses couldn't say the customer's names, and why they all wore hoods. Death Eater tradition and all that. She then flicked a finger at the paper, and another message appeared, after vanishing everything else. She needed the room.

_And why on earth are we, meaning you and ME, in a room with death eaters?_ At that Snape crumpled up the note, and placed it in his pocket. "We are here to eat to the health to our child, not play games honey."

"I wish my wife was as playful." A deep voice chuckled from behind him, and Procella grew ridged with fear…

She knew that voice… "A many good returns Snape."

"And you. Come, join us." Procella kicked him under the table, and Snape snapped his gaze on her. She was shacking her head at him, and he was shocked. She was a coward. What would make her hit him? Even if under the table. She was terrified of him.

"And I will." He was rather rotund, and hidden in a black version of a medieval monk's robes. "My wife will be along shortly, if we take long."

"We will not." He assured Procella more than anything, as _she_ was now holding onto _his_ hand for dear life. That worried him…

"Good good. And it is a pleasure at last to finally meet the wife of one of the most inspirational, loyal members of our little family." He chuckled as if he was some sort of friar, and pulled up a chair between Snape and Procella. But closer to Snape. "You can call me Avery." He held his hand out to her, but she didn't take it.

"My wife is feeling under the weather. She has begun the morning sickness cycles and unfortunately it has continued throughout the day. As you will see we have only ordered soup. And she has tonsillitis. She isn't supposed to speak, to save her tonsils before we have them removed." Snape came to her rescue, and tried to get Avery's attention. But he was looking at Procella. Thanks to the hood, only her blood red lips were on view, and a curly lock of her golden hair.

"What is your wife's name?"

"Pr-" Procella kicked him hard under the table. And this time it hurt. "Prudence. Prudence Snape."

"Well well well. You know, I never imagined you to be the settling type. Not after what we got up to in our early days, ay Severus?" he chuckled heartily. "You know, I went to school with your husband." She smiled weakly, and her hand shuck as she took another sip of her water. "Severus, I do believe your wife is worse than you thought. Is it natural to be that pale? And her hands are shacking."

"She will be fine." Snape gave her hand a squeeze. This was not as comforting as Procella needed. Because it meant 'hand in there'. When she would have much preferred 'let's go'. "As for our past escapades, what news is there from the Dark Lord?" Avery looked to Snape now, letting only Severus see Procella shuffle silently as much against the wall as she could. And as far away from Avery as possible.

"The Dark Lord? You want to talk about that, here, in front of your wife?"

"I assure you, she will tell no one." Technically, that was true.

"Very well." He drew himself closer to Snape, and they talked quietly. But Procella could hear them. "Well, he has contacted Grayback's pack, and they have officially sworn allegiance. And Mulciber has successfully gained the services of the south Lake merpeople, and a large Welsh clan."

"Of Merpeople?"

"Of Banshees." Procella spluttered on her water again.

"Steady dear. I swear she doesn't take her medicine." Snape gave her hand another supportive squeeze, and then turned back to his old school mate/fellow death eater. "And how exactly did he get the Banshees to agree to an alliance with the Dark Lord? He would be dead before the end of the first welcoming sentence."

"Well, he got them to write down their demands, and read the ones of the Dark Lord with the Imperius curse. He I bloody brilliant at that."

"I have heard." He glanced over at Procella, who did indeed look very pale. "And has the Dark Lord any orders for me?"

"No, I don't believe so. He is still contemplating his next move against the order." He leaned on the table with a sigh, then, looked up in sudden memory. Oh, but there was something he wanted you to tell me. Apparently, there is a new teacher at your school." At that, Procella lowered the glass and held both of Snape's hands.

_Please don't tell him about me, don't tell him, please don't._ She begged in her mind, and looked up at Snape, who had seen her silent plea. "What do you know about them?"

"Weak. A coward. Worse than Quirrell when acting. Not in the order, withdrawn. Not ever talkative. No real concern in the slightest."

"But is it true she can do powerful magic without a wand? His Lordship was very interested when that rumour reached him."

"Well, she teaches None verbal magic. But I have not seen her teach, I wouldn't know."

"Oh, well Malfoy reported she was very powerful. But actually, he said she was spineless too. So maybe that was and underestimate." Avery leaned forward on the table again. "So no real strengths? There was a rumour that she hospitalised a teacher."

"Well, she has. But it was an accident. She is incredibly blunderous."

"Ah, never mind then." He sighed, and looked over to Procella. "So, pregnant? Had a gender scan yet?"

"It is still very early." Procella was still looking at Snape.

And Avery gasped.

"Why is that you?" Snape discreetly pulled his wand from his robes under the table. "Oh, the Dark Lord will be pleased. We thought we lost _you_ years ago. Are you still under there, little swan?" he leaned forward, and grabbed her hood. Procella backed up as much as she could, but he yanked it down. "Why, I forgot just what a beauty you were, Procella." He smirked evilly now.

"You are mistaken." Snape said calmly, as Procella whimpered against the wall. "My wife's name is Prudence."

"Is that what she told you?" he chuckle evilly, and showed off his yellow teeth. "Yes, the Dark lord will be pleased when I tell him his pet has been captured. I dare say you will be greatly rewarded for finding her again Severus." Snape pointed the wand at him under the table, ready. "Wait…pregnant?" He raised a brow, and frowned. "Merlin, that's not good. You were meant to have his…" his head lolled forward, and Snape reached over the table. He pulled Procella's hood over her face, and sat back down calmly.

"You thought Avery was good with the Imperius? Well, now you will see how skilled _I_ am. I don't even need to verbally command you, to make you do as I please." Avery sat up straight, and was very quiet. "Darling, it is time for us to leave. You are in too much pain to stay." He told her, and all three hastily rose from the table.

"Your soup is-sir? Leaving so soon?"

"Yes, my wife needs medical attention." He grabbed Procella from behind, one hand on her shoulders, the other on her hip. "Hold you stomach and look in pain." He spat by her ear, and Procella grasped over her womb with both hands. "Avery will help me." The man from her past followed them obediently out through the pub, and they briskly walked through knockturn ally. Procella was whimpering, and not because of a fake child. Avery had seen her, recognised her. It wouldn't be long before _he_ came after her again. That stupid fool Snape. She told him she wasn't a death eater. But he was so stupid he didn't think there would be another reason why she had the dark mark on her back. And not on her arm. She sobbed, as Snape pushed them both into a back alley. Avery walked forward like a zombie, and stood perfectly still about 5 feet away. "Consensio, stay here. Don't, move." He said coldly, and walked with Avery down the alley, and around a corner. Procella whimpered against a wall, bit her lips. She did that when she didn't want to cry.

A few moments later, and Snape was back.

Alone. "Come, we are leaving." He grabbed her elbow as roughly as ever, and dragged her through secret alleys until they reached the steps back to diagonally.

It was like a dream. The sin was shining again, people were smiling and perfect, and it was like nothing in the word was wrong. Snape still held her elbow, but lightly now. "You have been a great service to the order." He whispered to her ear. "But you must never speak of what you have heard. And I have yet to question _you_ on a few matters. But not now. Now…you have done enough." He released her. "Go." He spoke normally, as cold as ever. "I have reason to believe that you are expected at the three broomsticks." He then turned to leave her, and walked a few steps. But upon looking back, Procella hadn't moved. it was as if she had been stupefied to the spot.

Snape had come back alone.

Had he killed Avery? Or let him go back to Voldemort? Was his body lying in the back streets of that wretched place? Or sat blabbering all he had discovered to the Lord himself?

That meeting, with Avery…it brought back a lot of memories. Memories, she would have sooner wished to forget. "Consensio?" he waved his hand before her face, but she didn't respond.

_Oh great. She's in shock._ He rolled his eyes, and hooked her arm. Snape walked her down the main street until they were outside the three broomsticks pub. He released her, and waited. "There, go. Your ridiculously chipper friend will be worried." He waited, still she didn't move. "Consensio?" this was worrying. She didn't even look like she was breathing… "Procella!" he caught her just as she swooned forward, her body now limp and her eyes closed. People stopped their walking and watched the potion master tap her face to rouse her. "Damn it, wake up!" He pointed his wand at her. "Ennervate!" But she didn't wake up. And her lips were turning blue from lack of oxygen. He pulled a vial of potent smelling salts from his pocket, and held them under her nose. Still nothing.

"Professor!" Hermione knelt down next to them. "Have you-"

"Smelling salts and revival spells. Not working." He spat. He didn't have time for this. He had to get her breathing again. "Ennervate!" "Muggles use something called mouth to mouth resuscitation. It forces air into the lungs." When Snape looked to her, she continued. "Push down on her chest, seal your mouth with hers, blow air into her lungs, wait 5 seconds, and then push down on her chest over her heart 5 times, once a second." Snape lifted her up and held her head off the ground. He blew air into her lungs, and then waited for 5 seconds. He then pushed on her chest hard like told, and waited. She still wasn't breathing. "Do it again." Hermione was panicking now. her vast mind wasn't coming up with anything she hadn't already seen him try. Again, Snape forced air down her throat, and pushed down on her chest.

"What in the name of Merlin!" Lupin pushed through the crowed, followed by Tonks.

"Procella!"

"Stand back!" Snape ordered, whilst pushing on her chest. "Magic hasn't worked." He stated, so they didn't waste him time in asking what he was doing. He thumped on her chest, and sealed his lips to hers one last time. Procella gasped in his mouth, and her hands scrambled up as an automatic defence reflex. She grabbed his shoulders, and her green eyes snapped open. Their eyes locked, and Snape slowly pulled away, until their lips were barely touching. Both were panting, and Procella couldn't believe it. Her body had just shut down from the stress, and Snape had brought her back. "Don't you ever, do that again." He was still on his knees in the middle of the street, and still looked to her eyes with his. He then sat up, and pulled her up with him.

"Procella…" Tonks pushed through with Lupin, and stood behind them. "Are you ok? What did you do!" Tonks pulled her wand out, and Lupin had to pull her arms behind her back to stop her jumping the potion master.

Snape however, was still looking at Procella, uncertain of himself.

"It appears Ms Granger has saved you." He tried to sound curt, but it wasn't working. "Her knowledge of Muggle procedure was actually useful. And next time, remember to breath." He released her arms, and she wobbled on her legs. He had to grab her again, before she fell. "Oxygen depravation can be cured with a visit to the infirmary. Or one of my Oxy Potions. My Dungeon is closer." He lifted her up like a bride in his arms, and made his way through the crowd.

"Wait a minute!" Tonks tried to go after them, but he had moved too quickly.

For the second time that day, they entered Honeydukes sweetshop.

"Why, welcome again. I-"

"We shall be using the passageway in your cellar. I am Severus Snape, teacher at Hogwarts. And this is Procella Consensio, also a teacher at Hogwarts." He didn't wait for a response, as he glided down the steps to the basement.

All the way back to Hogwarts, through the passageway and through the castle, Snape carried her in his arms. When they reached the dungeons, Snape still held her until they walked into his classroom. Procella didn't even look up, until he placed her on the back desk. "I have the potion in my store cupboard." He walked off, leaving her in a half trance. He returned with a long blue bottle, and uncorked the top. He poured a measure into a vial, and handed it to her professionally. "Drink it slowly. Give it time to infuse into your blood system." He then took the bottle back to his store room, and shouted back. "I will have to give a detailed report of our mission to Dumbledore before nightfall. You may accompany me as I am sure he will wish to converse upon our findings, and tell me my next task. You may be involved again. You were useful…" He placed the bottle back in its place, and lowered his hand in thought. "I may have to use you in future missions." He slowly walked back to the classroom, his robes billowing behind him. in a fashion, he was famous for. "Perhaps now, is the time for me to enquire why Avery knew you and referred to you as…" but she was gone. The door was open, an empty vial stood on the table, and she hadn't heard her leave. "…little swan. Damn."


	9. Chapter 9

"Rotten git." Tonks huffed, and sat on the bed.

_What was that?_ Procella leaned her head out of the bathroom.

"Just saying what a git Snape is. Fancy making you go to the book store with him for new books, to carry them for him! _And_ he didn't even ask you first. Just, grabbed you and off you went. No wonder I couldn't find you anywhere. The Potions section of the book store is at the very back, couldn't see it from the door." Tonks growled again. Tonks had come in first thing this morning to see if Procella was alright after yesterday. The rest of the staff had been worried when she didn't turn up at the broom sticks, and especially after learning of her close encounter with death. "Though I guess he paid you back by bringing you back to life I suppose…wouldn't have happened if he didn't work you like a pack mule!" Nymphadora looked up then from the bed, to see Procella chuckling at her. She wore flat brown material Eskimo boots, an ankle length creamy brown bustle skirt with lace rims, and a matching off the shoulder strapped brown summer shirt. It had a lacy love heart on the V of the neck, and she had a matching brown and lacy head scarf. She wore it very Professor Trelawney style, with her fringe free to curl over her right emerald eye. The tie was at the left side, and the sash like end of it was long and came over her left shoulder. The rest of her hair fanned down her back in its usual wavy smooth fashion, and she had her hands on her hips. "What?"

_I have a class to teach. And you have corridors to patrol._ She rolled her eyes and the pink haired Aura jumped to her feet with a groan.

"Well, I wish I could just walk into people's lessons like you can."

_No you don't._

"What?" Procella gave an impish grin. They walked out of her room, bags over their shoulders and walked down the corridor into the main entrance hall. Procella wanted to wave her friend off after all.

_You want to walk into Remus' lesson whenever you like._

"Hay!" but she blushed and batted her arm in a sisterly fashion. "Not fair. You can't judge my taste in men until I can yours. I mean, the only action I've seen _you_ have is your lip lock yesterday with…Snape…"

_Oh boy_.

Severus Snape had the most intimidating expression on his face, with one eyebrow raised. He had just walked into their path, and he folded his arms.

"Talking about me…were we?"

"Look at the time." Tonks turned her back to the potions master, and mouthed 'sorry' to her friend. "I have a patrol to do. And you have a lesson to teach, right?" Procella nodded enthusiastically, and tried to walk away. Snape however, only let Tonks get away scott free.

"I assume." He walked next to her, going back down her corridor. "That there was a reason for you prompt exit yesterday afternoon from my classroom. Yes?" Procella looked around for someone, anyone who could get her out of this. She knew he had questions and she did _not_ want to answer them. Not today, not ever. "You look well." She stopped at that, and looked to him. "The potion I gave you did its job effectively. No symptoms remain." He was being curt again. Procella quickly looked away from him, not wanting to let him see her eyes in case he was going to try entering her mind again, and walked a bit faster. But he matched her persistently with speed. "Shock is a terrible thing." They reached her classroom door, but he bared her way with a hand against the wall, just before it. She couldn't get by him. "But what is usually worse than the shock…is what _caused_ it." Oh boy, this she should have expected. She looked down again, not wanting to see his enquiring gaze. As he was trying to look into her eyes. _Damn him._ "Would you care to _willingly_ enlighten me to what caused your reaction yesterday? To cause a great enough shock to stop you breathing, the cause must be very significant." He whispered icily, towering over her. He leaned in, and spoke even softer. "Why are you called little swan?"

He never saw it coming.

Procella pushed his chest hard with both hands, until he was staggering backwards. He regained his balance quickly, but only after stepping a full stride back from the door. Procella made a dash for it, and the door opened with a bang against the door. But he grabbed her arm, and held her half in, half out of the classroom. "I said." He spat, but his eyes darted inside the room. The 7th year class had already taken their seats, and were all looking to them. Procella was backed against the door, her arm uncomfortably raised on the air by her shoulder from Snape, her face turned away from him and she was trebling.

This didn't look good.

And Harry Potter stood up from his chair, wand in his hand. "…We shall continue this 'chat' another time." He released her, and she whimpered quietly against the door, still refusing to look at him. "Professor Consensio." He bid her farewell sternly, and stalked off to his classroom.

His mood, had just gotten worse.

After taking many deep breaths, Procella pulled herself away from the door, and closed it. She kept her back to her class for a moment while she pulled herself together, and didn't even smile as she paced to her desk. She quickly threw her hand towards the board, which told them to practise Accio non-verbally, and then combined the Wingardium Leviosa with it into one smooth action.

But she didn't test them. She just watched from her desk, looking around them all as they got the silent message to just get on with it.

Harry however, kept looking back at her. She looked so upset, so startled when that door opened. He wanted to ask her if she was alright, if she wanted any help or if she wanted him to curse Snape into next week. But he stayed at his desk, waving his hand around unceremoniously and looking like he was doing something. But his mind always made him look back to the pale professor.

He would talk to her about it at the end of the lesson.

The lesson ended after a dragging hour, and the bell went. The students left, (Hermione and Ron after Harry told them to), and Harry walked up to the desk.

"Professor…are you…well…alright?" she seemed on a time delay loop, but she nodded eventually. Harry then lost it and growled, leaning on the table firmly. "If Snape is bullying you, you should tell Dumbledore!" Procella looked up with a start, seeing fury in his green eyes. "You have to tell him! I'm just a student, and _I've_ seen him push you, grab you, and the attack last week! You have to tell Dumbledore or it won't stop! Snape is dangerous and he-"

"That is enough Mr Potter." They both looked to see Professor McGonagall in the doorway, in her usual green robes and hat. She narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You have said quite enough about one of your _respected_ teachers Harry, and have said very serious things. Please leave before I give you a detention for such talk."

"But-"

"I will not say it again." Procella stood up and placed a hand over his, still on the desk. They locked eyes, and she nodded with a smile. Harry didn't know whether that meant, 'I'll tell Dumbledore' or, 'I'll be fine. Thanks for the thought'. either way, he didn't have much of a choice. Harry sighed, and made his way out of the classroom.

"I'll see you tomorrow 3rd Professor." He said sadly, and walked out of sight. After a moment, probably to check that Harry wasn't still there, Minerva sighed and smiled to Procella.

"Boys." she rolled her eyes. "Well, shall I assume from that little outburst, that you have had a run in with the potions master this morning? Mmmm?" Procella nodded with a weak smile. "Oh that man." she pursed her lips in distaste. "Well, no more on that now." she smiled again, and pulled a scroll from her sleeve. She unravelled it, and cleared her throat. "There will be a competition for the four best love poems in the school. And an additional two love poems from the staff members, who shall be nominated by ballet box in the common rooms. The winners shall be rewarded, and their poems read aloud on stage by _their_ elected professor. Entries must be in before the end of January, and given to the heads of house." She lowered the scroll, and looked to Procella. "Well dear, what do you think?" there was a pause, where Procella just looked to her blankly. Then, she chuckled with a bright smile, and nodded. "Ah, good. I have prepared this notice to be pinned on the notice boards of all the common rooms, but I wanted your opinion." She nodded, happy with the reaction, and placed the scroll back in her sleeve. "Ah, and then there is the ball itself to be organised." She held her hands together with an aged smile. "I have been told that you requested more duties, _and_ you did come to me about assisting my job of 'celebrations' and events. Would you be free to join me know? Not in my office, in the staff room perhaps. Where another volunteer you will know shall be waiting for us." Her eyes twinkled, and Procella stood up. Her smile returned and she picked her satchel from the desk. She then followed her new mentor, and walked briskly to the staff room.

Both Tonks and Procella had stars in their eyes as they looked over the large scrolls of pink, red and purple. Hearts glittered everywhere, and Tonks giggled.

"And we get to help with this! Great!" she looked to Procella. "But you know what that means, don't you?" Procella blinked, afraid to ask. "I get to put you in a dress. No skirt, an actual dress." Procella gulped, thinking of Tonks and fashion…

_I will be damned if it comes above my knees._

_How about a mini skirt length?_

_No, not in a million years._ Tonks giggled at that, and then looked to Minerva. "So, what can we do to help?"

"Well. I was hoping to leave the propaganda part of the Valentines day ball to you, Nymphadora."

"Please, call me Tonks."

"Oh, I don't mind."

"No please, _please_ call me Tonks." She begged, and Minerva chuckled.

"Alright. So are you alright with that duty?"

"Posters, flyers, leaflets, announcements, anti-graffiti charms and will I have to make up the rules of the ball?"

"Now, they are the same every year."

_What about dancing?_

"Oh, good point. What about dancing?"

"Well, we could hold dancing sessions after hours. But I fear that as this isn't a formal ball, the dances would be how do you say…more modern?"

"I could do it. And so can Procella, right?" Procella chuckled and nodded. She knew that if she didn't agree, she would be dragged down there anyway. "But we need men…" Procella's face dropped gormlessly. This just made Tonks laugh. "Well, we need partners, right?"

_You can take Remus._ Tonks narrowed her eyes playfully at that.

"I will ask for male volunteers." Minerva said briefly, and then looked over her list. "Do you think it you could handle the poetry entries Procella?" Procella nodded eagerly. "Oh and…decoration. No wait, that is done by the house elves…and the food is handled also…I have the dates and permission slips to handle…and the organisation aspects…and the entertainment. Well, I think that is it." She smiled at the two, who were looking forward to their tasks. "Well, I have nothing more to say or any other reason to keep you here. I do believe you need to return to your patrol, Tonks."

"Yes, I should really." The both stood, as Minerva Accio-ed a mug of coffee over to her. "I'll show you what I've done tomorrow, ok?"

_Yes. I am free until 3rd period tomorrow. _

"Alright, see you then."

_Good bye._ They went their separate ways, Tonks out of the grounds, and Procella stood stock still in the main entrance hall.

She had absolutely nothing left to do.

Again.

_This is going to be a long day…_

After taking herself off to her room to stare at the wall for a few hours (she was board) the time ticked round to Lunch. She was lucky enough to have met the local House elf for the corridor, called Mindy, who brought her ham sandwiches and tea. Then, she tried to look through her favourite romance novels for a while, but ended up reading a horror book on Vampires in the 'bloody ages'. This passed the house barely, until it was late evening time, and time for dinner. Her stomach growled at her to go to the great hall, and her feet moved on auto pilot. Hunger fuelled her body for the time being, as she made her way to the great hall.

She was one of the first teachers there, students already in place, as was Dumbledore and Minerva. She kept the door open as Flitwick walked inside with a gracious smile at her, then left to take his seat. Procella quickly stepped back out of the hall, to let Hagrid walk through the door. But he stopped before her.

"Well, look Ms. I didn't mean no 'arm now. I though you were an intruder. I've been beatin' myself ap all week 'bout what 'appened. I 'ope you can forgive me."

She gave him a big smile, and nodded very childishly. Adorably childishly. "Oh, well that just made my day that did." He chuckled and walked inside. Right before Procella could walk through the now closed doors at last, a pale hand shot out from behind her and pressed against the wooden door. Right by her face.

"Good evening Ms Consensio." That snarky, icy voice let the owner known before she looked over her shoulder. But she did anyway. "Please, allow me." he opened the door, and she cautiously walked through it, as he held it open for her. Snape then over took her, his black robes billowing behind him as he strode over to the table, and then he stopped behind her chair. Very reluctantly, she walked over there, for him to pull her chair out for her. Procella just stared at him, afraid and confused at the same time. "Well?" he looked to be forcing a smile. Slowly, Procella sat down, and he pushed her in gently. Snape then sat next to her, and waited a few moments before addressing her again. This time, quieter and a lot harsher. Like his usual self. "Talking to Minerva about me, have we?" at first, Procella had no idea what he was talking about.

"_Well, shall I assume from that little outburst, that you have had a run in with the potions master this morning? Mmmm?" Procella nodded with a weak smile. "Oh that man." she pursed her lips in distaste. "Well, no more on that now…_

_Oh boy_.

"I think you have." He narrowed his eyes at her dangerously. "Because I have been accused of abusing my fellow co-workers. I have also been called a fiend, a ruffian, and most un-courteous towards the opposite sex. Down right ungentlemanlike." He leaned closer, and she wanted to just scream. "You wouldn't have had anything to do with those accusations, would you?" she gulped. "Of course you wouldn't. Because I have given you no reason to think that. Isn't that right Ms Consensio?" Procella looked down the table, and saw Minerva was glancing over at them every now and then. So she _had_ said something to him. "Right, Consensio?" she shuck her head. "I didn't think so." He leaned closer still to her, making her lean back. But she didn't dare look at him. "Because it has not been _me_ who has ignored the other, or run off when I had offered my assistance to you, regarding your health. It was you." He waited for a reaction, but there wasn't one. "There is so much doubt in my mind about you, that I should have dragged you down to the dungeons long ago and forced a **Veritaserum** down your 'innocent' throat. Then I might know just who." He paused. "Or _what_ I am dealing with." Procella pursed her lips together, and raised her goblet to her lips as the feast began. But she didn't drink. _What if he has spiked my drink?_ She lowered it, and Snape didn't have to enter her mind to know what she was thinking. "If I was going to induce you, I would make sure you saw me doing it, Consensio. Unlike you, I am _not_ a coward." If he riled her up enough, he could geode her into a mind link. Then he could actually _talk_ to her. "Too afraid to make a mind link. Even when you can end it at any time. Weakling." Procella summoned a quill and parchment from no where, and quite firmly wrote.

_I know what you want, and you will not get it. I will not connect with you._ "Coward." _Doesn't work._ "Why will you not link with me?" he said quieter still. "You have yet to give me any reason against it. I _would_ be more civil with you, if you _talked _with me. Perhaps if we conversed, I might get a better understanding of just who you are, and perhaps even leave you alone. Merlin knows I do not enjoy pressing you for information. That you have yet to give me." Procella pushed her plate away. She didn't care how hungry she was. Snape could have done anything to her food before they came in. She saw he had come from the corridor down the left side of the hall. For all she knew, he could have used the teacher's exit and circled round to make it look like he hadn't done anything. She could always visit the kitchens later. She wasn't about to risk it. Not with Snape. Not with one of _his kind_.

Making a decision, Procella wrote manually on her parchment.

_I don't trust you. You make me too nervous to trust you._

Again, those words. You, make, me, and nervous. They just kept cropping up again and again. And he for some reason, despised those words with an ardour. He didn't care if he made her nervous, but at the same time…

_So stop trying to make me connect to you. I won't do it. It has to be willing, and I am not willing. Not with you._

Again, it was because of him _personally_. Not because he was another teacher, or a man, or close to someone else. It was because it was _him_ that she wouldn't link with him. Snape was starting to lose his temper. "You are being ridiculous. Don't you think it would be easier to just talk to me? After all that has happened between us, the harsh words and meetings, and even the bed time we both had in the infirmary, that talking to me is the best answer? Where has being stubborn and persisted gotten you? In the infirmary, crying in your room, terrified." He snarled. "And I haven't even." He stopped.

Done anything to deserve this? Had he not been cruel to her? Had he not pried into her personal life more than once in the past week or so? Had he not even threatened her with potions and even tried to _force_ his way into her mind.

Yes, he had deserved this. But he hated it… "Just talk to me Consensio. If you just talk to me…" his tone had changed. It was more desperate than before. "Then we could resolve this."

_No._

Snape growled, and scowled forward. "I will not stop. Not until I get what I want."

_How very Death eater of you._ Those words…those ink words burned into him. it had been the most offensive thing she had ever said…and it hurt. It made him say something he immediately regretted.

"Takes one to know one, little swan." Procella snapped her head up, and for the second time at Hogwarts, she scowled. But this time, it was bloody and screamed for vengeance. Her emerald eyes started to dilute and dull, her lips turning a soft silver, and her skin paler. Her hands on the table became white too, and her nails grew into black claws. She opened her mouth, and fangs grew from her milky canines. Unlike before, her hair started to fade, becoming a perfect, pure white colour. Her eyes were empty once more, white and fathomless. Her clothes rippled, and she jumped up to her feet. A high hissing came from deep in her throat, and all glass in the hall shattered. Students and teachers alike screamed and stared at the scene at the end of the table. Snape was now stood, holding his wand at her. But she was too quick. Her hand came out, and back handed his face. He half slung over the table, before she grabbed the front of his back, robes, and her own draining in colour. The head scarf she had fell out of her hair, as it grew wild and wind swept.

"Heaven hath no fury like a scorned woman." Lupin found himself reciting, and grabbed Tonks next to him. "We have to-"

Snape went hurtling over the teacher's desk, and crashed down in front of the Slytherin table. Hagrid grabbed Procella's arm, but she pushed him off as if he was nothing but a baby. But he didn't cry like a baby as his back collided with the back wall.

"Ms Consensio!" Minerva shouted, and ran after her. But Procella jumped up onto the table, and threw her arms back. she hissed angrily at Snape, who slowly rose to his feet, staring point blank at her. Before Minerva could even hope to grab her, Procella was off, soaring through the air and her clawed hands outstretched. Snape however had other ideas, as he ducked to the side, his wand still aimed at her.

"Permission to curse a fellow teacher!" he shouted to Albus. Dumbledore was well away of what he was being asked, and wouldn't allow it. He shuck his head, and Snape growled as he parried a blast curse. "You can still use magic!" he then raised his want. "Protego!" a blue shimmering shield made a thin barrier between Snape and a raging Banshee witch, as he looked to Dumbledore again. "I need to stop her!" again, he shuck his head. He knew what would happen. He knew Procella and her father enough to know what would happen.

But Snape didn't have that little comfort as Procella screeched and slashed the shield into shreds with her sharp claws.

Hagrid was up, and Flitwick and Sprout were emptying the hall of students. Rubius tackled her, to be thrown back off again effortlessly. Snape groaned as she lashed out, slicing five deep cuts diagonally down his chest. He began bleeding heavily, and couldn't wait any longer.

She was going to kill him.

He raised his wand, and opened his mouth to petrify her, when Lupin, Tonks, a battered Hagrid and Vector (Arithmancy teacher) dog pilled on Procella. He leaned back with dizzy eyes against the empty Slytherin table, and watched as the four of them pulled her up to her feet. She snarled, thrashed, hissed and gnashed her teeth at him.

"Got you." Tonks let go of her, and put her wand away. "Merlin, I didn't even know you had _that_ much of a fight in you." She ran hand through her pink hair…and then turned to face Snape. "You bastard." She was tearing, her fists clenching and opening in rage. "How could you! How could you call me _that_!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, stepping towards him menacingly. "How could you call me that when you can see it plainly upsets me!" she shuck as tears flooded down her face.

"What…Consensio?" He shuck his head, and pulled away from the table.

"You have no right." She spat, pointing at him. "You have no right to call me that, no right to invade my mind or my past. That is _my_ Merlin be damned business and _no one_ has _any_ right to _force_ me to do anything, after the life _I_ have lived." Tonks took another step towards him, and Snape raised his wand. But his face was still blank, from experience. "How _dare_ you even associate me with _your_ people."

"_My_ people? What is _that _supposed to mean!" he growled back.

"What do you think! You know what I mean, so don't you dare." She whimpered. "Don't you dare play stupid with me. You know what you have done to me, put me though, said to me." As if on cue, Procella herself hissed loudly, looking deadly. "Your curiosity ends here, right, here." Her voice was dark, low and unnerving. "I will never open my mind to any of your kind. And never, ever, accuse me of being like you, one of you, ever again. I despise you and all you stand for with all my being. The very fibres of my soul, my core of existence, beats with my heart against all that you are. I hate you all." Tonks relaxed slightly. "I hate you all…I hate…you." Tonks closed her eyes. "And I never want to see you, or talk to you again." Procella hissed quietly, and closed her own eyes. When they opened again, they were their normal emerald pigment, her hair turned back to a golden blonde, her skin peach and her clothes brown. Tonks fell back, and Lupin ran forward to catch her. She was out cold, and Procella stood tall, no one touching her. She was more intimidating now with her steal cold gaze, than when she was trying to rip Snape to pieces.

Without a word, a change of expression, or even a change in her frozen rage persona, walked by him.

"Procella…" She stopped at his side, and looked blankly at him. Snape stood tall, ignoring the pain in his chest and gut, and looked to her with steady black eyes.

Smack. Snape's face whipped away from her, his cheek red with a hand print visible almost on his face. He didn't even look up as she walked off, like nothing had happened. "Procella…" he said softly, and then forced himself to look at her before she got through the door. "This isn't over!" she stopped in the doorway, holding the door handle on the outside with one hand. Then, she slammed the door shut behind her, and Snape could feel the vibrations through the floor. "I haven't finished with you just yet…Procella."


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 10 _**

The rest of the week had been filled with tension like never before. Procella had a very Snape worthy scowl on her face on a permanent basis, talked to no one, revoked her mind link with Tonks, wouldn't write anything down on paper to talk to anyone, taught only her lessons, and spent the rest of her time locked away in her room. Even as Tonks tried to gaud her out, she didn't answer in ignorance. In class, she had _hand written_ the instructions with her back to the class, instructing them to write long essays on the theory and situational ethics behind the proper use of wandless, and non incanted magic. The supposed lessons she was to have with Harry was long forgotten, and in her current mood, he didn't _dare_ remind her of it. She ordered food from the house elves, not eating in the great hall, and was rarely seen these days. Dumbledore had tried to hold a conversation with her, to set things back into motion.

But all that did, was get him a blank expression. He tried to ask if there was some way he could get Snape to apologies. But from the first mention of Snape, she flinched, and her eyes watered.

"Come now dear. You can't hate him truly, surely." But she sniffled, and walked away from him. Her head hung forward, and her pace quick in taking her to the safety of her rooms.

It was now Friday, and her mood was starting to get to the rest of the staff now more than ever. She was so happy, smiling, and down right cheerful. But now…now she was far worse. She had even taken house points from Gryffindors for asking about her.

Friday meant she had the 7th years both 4th and 5th. Gryffindor and Slytherin 4th, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw 5th.

But now was morning, and she dragged herself out of her bed. Her expression never changed as she washed and dressed, to when she saw a note appear on her desk.

_Dear Procella._

_You did say I could call you that, last we last spoke of it. _

_I have the unfortunate duty to give the house elves other duties as you are unable to assist Professor McGonagall with her preparations. And so, you shall be required to take breakfast in the hall, on the teacher's table. I hope this change in recent routine does not inconvenience you too much._

_I look forward to seeing you next._

_From_

_You good friend Albus Dumbledore. _

_I bet he did this on purpose._ She scowled, and pulled her cloak from her made bed.

Today, she wore a very different attire. To match her new attitude.

High heel black knee boots, material with buckle fastens, black skin tight none shining lycra trousers, tucked down into her boots. Over that, her usual gypsy white shirt, long sleeves with drawn cuffs, but a dark red leather waist corset made her look daring. It pushed her ample breasts up and exposed more cleavage through the open V neck of the shirt.

A simple rouge red lipstick and mascara aided to her new image, and she dried her hair to look wild and curly. Still covering her right eye, giving her look a mysterious look about her.

Procella left her satchel, as she didn't have lessons until 4th period, and left her rooms. She walked to the great hall like a woman on a mission. The sooner she got this over with, the better. She was so tempted to just skip breakfast, but knew Dumbledore would have intended the house elves not to bring her dinner or anything else either. So she might as well get this over with.

It wasn't the students drooling gazes that bothered her, or the shocked ones of the teachers (other than Tonks who gave her a thumbs up) that unnerved her into keeping a straight face. It was the dark haired man sat in the chair that would be next to her. And he was looking right at her.

Severus Snape almost dropped his goblet. Procella looked like a wicked enchantress, her golden hair like a tempest, her hour glass figure shown off perfectly, her hips swaying as she confidently sashayed up the hall, her emerald eyes burning with a fire, and her lips showing the colour of that fire. Or the colour of his own blood, if he got to close to her. He had to use all his will to force his dark eyes to look down, and not stare at her like he really wanted to. He looked up again, with the sound of the chair next to him screeching from under the table, and then shuffling back under again. But with a pissed off Wandless magics Professor sat on it.

All the teachers gave Snape a look, which he understood well. He had barely a day to recuperate before he was bombarded with individual, and multiple teachers out right demanding he apologise to her, or at least make amends. He refused of course, and it was Dumbledore in the end that had to order him to be civil. He tried to explain he had been the civil one in the first place, but they didn't listen. For once, he saw Albus was very stern about him 'making things right', and had to submit. But the question was, how to go about it.

"_And I never want to see you, or talk to you again." And she said she hates my kind. And me._ He scowled down into his goblet of water, and clenched it tight in one fist. What she has said had infuriated him, and yet, cut him deeper than the healed wounds on his chest. they hadn't scared thanks to powerful magic, but he felt they wouldn't the finishing blows to the fight. The more painful of her assaults, physical was when she slapped him. Mental, were those three words. _"I hate you."_ He loathed those words, even more since they kept repeating in his head over and over again. Her face, her tears, her scowl, her claws slicing his chest, her hand across his cheek, her words. He should be furious with her.

And yet, she wasn't the one he hated. The one he hated, was himself. Logically, he should be thinking along the lines of _how dare she! I should hex that little half witch to eternity, make her suffer!_ But what he was actually thinking was more like _her eyes…they looked so cold. Almost, like mine._ And her recent behaviour had supported the last of the thoughts. Like him.

Slowly but surely, he was seeing his own behaviour in her methods. Deducting points from all students, speaking to no one (not as literally but she couldn't help that), refusing and showing distaste for company, and retreating from all eyes after lessons. Even now, from the way she ate in silence, her face in an indifferent bored expression, staring solely at her food as she ate it, making neat yet quick work of it.

"Good morning." She froze, but then continued like nothing had happened. _Ok, another tactic._ "Did you sleep well?" he tried to sound concerned he really did.

And he pulled it off way to comfortably than he would like to admit. As he waited, she drank from her goblet, and dabbed the corners of her red lips with a serviette. _No response._ Yet he didn't growl like he thought he would at her ignoring him.

Then, she rose from her seat, and he stood with her. "Have you a lesson now?" He held her arm to stop her leaving, and she span her head at him. The fury in her eyes, made his natural defence system kick up. He stood tall, one eyebrow raised and looked down at her. "It _is_ rude to walk away to those who are simply showing an interest. Considering our last interaction, I would think I am being quite civil, don't you?" she pulled her arm back, and mouthed two words at him. The last one was yours, and the first a direction. She then gave him a look of utter disgust, and started to walk away. Snape looked back to Dumbledore, who shooed with his hands, urging him to follow her.

Snape took a deep breath, and followed her. "Consensio." He called, but she ignored him. "Consensio." He said a little sterner. He followed right behind her all the way to the entrance hall, before he resorted to grabbing her once more. "Consensio I am trying to talk to you. I know you might find reciprocating hard with no parchment, but I think you can have the decency to listen." He said icily, and she turned to face him. Her emerald eye froze him internally to the spot, her hand grabbed over his on her arm, and roughly tore it off her. He took a deep breath, as he now at least had her attention. "I made the enquiry as to if you were teaching now. Are you?" she shuck her head, but focused on him hatefully all the time. Her red lips pursed together, her hands now on the hips of her leather red waist corset in fists. "Well, then I would suggest we use this time to resolve our differences." She smirked evilly, and raised a hand. Upon seeing her middle finger up in the air before him, he snarled. "I am being sickly civil! And Merlin permit me, I am trying to have a conversation with you!" He lost his indifference, or his schooled coolness, his temper showing clearing. As was hers.

His face lost some of its intensity, when he felt a tingle at his mind's walls. "Now you wish to make a link?" he brushed off his arms casually, and folded his arms. "I should think it is about time." Procella then stepped up to him, their faces glaring and inches apart.

Bam.

Snape felt the connection made, and he made one to her. This was a lot different than a one way link, which meant it could be cancelled when ever the one with Occlumency wanted. But they were _both_ skilled with Occlumency, so the same didn't apply. This time, _both_ would have to want to terminate the link to sever it.

_Consensio?_ He tested the water. Her face didn't change, but she raised a hand from her hip. She poked his chest hard, and scowled furiously.

_Alright Snape. Listen well because I am only going to say this once._ He was taken aback. This was the first time he heard her voice, other than when she was screaming as a banshee. This is what her voice would have sounded like, if she were human. It was razor sharp, shaking with fury and made him take a step back. albeit small.

Procella shuck with as much anger as her mental voice, and seethed. _You are unbelievable!_

_I am!_ He returned. _I am not the one ignoring everyone, sulking like one of my adolescent pupils in my room, and attacking anyone who will not give in to your mood swings._

Smack.

You thought he would have learnt the first time. But it took another slap across the face to shut him up.

_Now when did I say you could talk? _He was livid, his eyes narrowed murderously at her, and his curtains of black hair hung forward with rage. He looked very worthy of the mark on his left forearm like that. But for once, Procella wasn't fazed. _You have done quite enough, don't you think?_ At that, he _seemed_ to flinch. But you couldn't notice. _Now it is time for you to listen, like you have bugged for since I first got here._ She shuck her head with cruel mirth. _Oh I have thought of so many things to say to you, over the last week. I hope I remember to say them all. _But there was nothing sweet or innocent about her tone of 'voice'. _Here is the Merlin be damned list I have you for! Severus Fucking Snape!_ She started to walk forward, until their chests brushed together aggressively. _I came here to teach, to get away from what I had left behind. I don't talk about it for a reason! You idiot!_ She screamed in his mind._ You are the potions master. I agree with that. You are a death eater._

_I am n-_

_I agree with that fully._ She spat before he could finish. _I have seen why Voldemort loves you so much. Willing to do anything to get what you want. Even force yourself upon me mentally. Raping me._ She seethed, and pushed him back hard. He didn't fall, and his glowering gaze on her never wavered. _Did you ever think of it like that Snape? Did you ever think forcing yourself into my mind was rape? Taking from me something I am not willing to give, something personal and private to me FOR A REASON, is rape! You tried to rape me! _Snape bit his tongue, as he saw tears well in her eyes. There was a sudden uncomfortable lump in his throat. _You tried to rape, after bullying me because I couldn't talk to you._

"But you managed to talk like old pals to Lupin! Didn't you!"

_That was because he didn't make me nervous! Or scare me shitless!_

"Oh, so I scare you _as well as_ make you nervous now! perhaps, you should write me a fucking list!" it was a good thing everyone was in the hall, unable to hear the debate that only Snape had resorted to shouting at in his rage.

_I am getting there. _ She promised darkly. _Let's look at the 'fucking list' so far. You bully me and man handle me, you try to rape me, you don't take the first subconscious warning to back off, and try again! Then, when the shit hits the pan, you get your front sliced open, me trying to kill you, and how many times have I slapped you now? Twice at least?_ Procella stomped her foot, tears jerkily falling down her face. Snape clenched his fists at his side, controlling himself at all times. _Get the message you insensitive arsehole! I don't like you! You scare me and have pressured me into accompanying you to a Fucking 'Death Eater dine out for the family', as your bloody WIFE, without asking me first, because I couldn't tell you no! and you never even asked me, or told me why!_

_I may have thought you best for the job!_ He stepped forward, restraining his hands to his sides.

_Of course you did. Because I can't talk or screw things up for you! But I did, didn't I Snape?_ She folded her arms and looked to the side, scowling still. _Because I was recognised by you 'old school buddy'. Is he still you buddy? Or is he dead in an ally way!_ She accused him openly, looking at him furiously once more. _Did you drag him off to kill him?_

_How dare you!_

_Easily!_ She threw her hands down by her sides in fists, and leaned up as tall as she could. _You are a Death Eater! Don't you kill people for some sort of kick? An age old tradition blood sport!_ She stopped as she saw him raise his hand. _Go on._ She stepped forward, and even turned her face for him. _Go on, hit me. Right over my face. You'll like that, wont you? That is all you understand, violence and blood shed. You and your kind._

_Why do you keep saying that!_ He grabbed her shoulders, and forced her to look at him, both glaring. _Who is, 'my kind'?_

_Death Eaters._

_I am not a Death Eater._

_Then why were you in a Death Eater pub mm? And why the mark?_

_I told you Consensio. I was a Death Eater, and now work for the Order of the Phoenix. You know this! Dumbledore told you all this!_

_I wish he told me you were still up to your old ways, with your old friends. Then I might have steered clear of you!_

_I am up to NOTHING! _He roared at her, grasping her harder. _I was on a reconnaissance mission for Dumbledore and the order! I'm a spy!_

_Oh, that I believe. But not for Dumbledore._ She struggled to get free, in vain.

_If I were working for the death eaters, then surely I would have handed you over to Avery upon recognising you. Yes?_

_No. Because if I went missing, you would lose you cover in Hogwarts._

_No! you are not seeing the point!_

_And neither are you!_ She screamed at him. _I don't care what the point is! I want nothing to do with you! None of you!_

_I am NOT a death eater! What are you afraid of me doing!_ She looked away, whimpering now. _Oh no you don't. Not now. Look at me Consensio. What are you afraid of happening?_

_Leave me alone! Why can't you just leave me alone! You always find me, try to take me back, leave me alone!_

"Consensio…" she had broken down into tears, thrashing her head from side to side in sorrow.

_Won't leave me alone…never will…oh Merlin why won't you leave me alone._ Then it clicked.

_Consensio. Are…are you wanted by the Death Eaters?_ With that she snapped her head up in fear. _Avery said he knew you, that the Dark Lord would be pleased to have you back, that I found you. Why would he want you?_ Why didn't he ask these questions sooner?

_No, no just no._ she tried to struggle, not to much angry as distressed now.

"Consensio! Why does he want you!" He barked as an order, shaking her to look at him. "If they are after you, you _must_ tell me. Otherwise I can't protect you."

_Why would you want to protect me from him? He is your master…_

"No, he is not." He resorted to talking again, and stopped shaking her when she stopped thrashing in his grasp. "I am my own master now. I am not a Death Eater. If I were, why would I have even _tried_ to resuscitate you?" she gulped. No, she hadn't forgotten that. "If you are in danger, you must tell me so I can shield you from his eyes."

_No._

"Yes, you must tell me." He thought back to the meeting he had, the last words he heard Avery say before he was hit with the Imperious curse.

"_Wait…pregnant?" Avery raised a brow, and frowned. "Merlin, that's not good. You were meant to have his…"_

"Consensio…" he was starting to draw together a picture, one, he didn't like at all.

The dark mark on the small of her back, her need to be away from the Death Eaters, she wasn't one but held the mark, Avery's last words…

Procella knew he knew now, or at least, most of it.

The part, she didn't want anyone to know. "Where you the Dark lord's…"

_Whore? I thought so. But he never touched me._ She whimpered, and now he let her go. She sniffled, and held herself for support. Snape stood there, and hoped he was wrong.

_How did you get the Dark mark Consensio?_

_How do you think?_ She sobbed slightly. _He put it there. _

_Himself!_

_Yes. Personally. He didn't put it on my arm, as I was never a death eater, and I was never meant to be._

_When Avery said 'you were meant to have his'. Did that mean…_

_Yes._ She whimpered and smacked the side of fist against the wall by her side. _Yes it does. He chose me to be his wife. _ Those words seemed to jab at his chest like cold needles. _He wanted me to bare him a child. I was just 16 myself, and he knew that I couldn't talk. And he knew I never would. So he was…'safe' around me. _ She sobbed into her hands, and Snape stepped up behind her. _He found me crying in a country town, having my hair pulled by the Muggle children for being different. He 'came to my rescue' and so I gave him a hug. _

Snape placed a hand on her shoulder, and had to guide her into her corridor. He didn't want the students to come out here after breakfast, to see their professor distraught. _I told him he saved me as they had talked of…doing something despicable to me. All on paper of course. He then told me he was a wizard, and took me with him. his men were all dressed in black hoods, as standard…_ she leaned against her door. _Come in. I don't want to talk about it anymore…see for yourself…_

Snape stood fixed to the spot. She wanted to _show_ her memory of Voldemort? Well, all those questions he had been answering would be answered…but did he really want to know? Know that he had a taster of what he had been pressing so hard to see.

Procella pushed the door open, her hair hung forward to hide her eyes. She never imagined this would be happening when she got up this morning. Somehow, she found the strength to walk into her rooms and lay down slowly on the bed. She knew Snape had followed her, when the bed shifted with his weight. It felt like he was right behind her. And he was, she felt, when his hand rested on her shoulder. _Are you ready to see…what you wanted with such an ardour that you were relentless in your perusing of it?_ In actual truth, he wasn't. But he felt he didn't have a choice, as she would most likely never give this invitation to him ever again.

"Yes." She rolled onto her back, and looked directly up at the roof of the bed. Snape then leaned over her, like prince charming to sleeping beauty.

If only.

_Alright. I'm ready…_ he leaned closer. She grabbed his shoulders, catching him off guard. _But promise me, what ever you see, what ever you learn…never tell anyone. Not Dumbledore, no one. Not Nymphadora, not Lupin, not Minerva or the rest of the order. This is not something to report. Understand?_ He paused, and then leaned down on her even more.

_I understand. _ He rested on his elbows by her head, and looked down into her face. He brushed the hair off her right eye, and then brushed away some pre-stressful tears. As both know, Procella would be forced to re live the memory as well, since this was an exact extraction. Before it was a fast glimpse of a short, but certain memory. What she was going to show him, were a chain of strongly linked, dark memories that had been locked up so long, to fester and gather strength in the back of her mind. And so, something as strong would be needed to connect them. Like before, the powerful link had been the sorrow and emotion from the fight that span his mind into her haunting witnessing of her murdered father and sister.

By her voice.

So another strong emotion would be needed this time. And Snape knew just the one he wanted to use. But it wasn't the one Procella expected.

He brushed his lips over her forehead, making her flinch away from him. But he wasn't deterred. He did it again, and traced his lips down the side of her face slowly. He trailed soft, tender kisses over her cheek, and hovered his mouth over hers. _Yes, I understand. And I am ready._ He sealed his lips to hers, and opened them both. His tongue seeped inside her mouth sensually, and he dove further. He now pinned her hands above her head, kissing her slowly, but crushingly passionately. As she closed her eyes, giving in to the wonderful feeling of Severus kissing her like she had never allowed before, she felt cold. The cold feeling travelled like wisps of icy mist down into her chest, and spread through her body.

Then everything went dark, and panic ensued her mind once more. This was it, it was happening again. She would soon relive some of the most darkest parts of her life, the parts she had locked away for a reason.

For her own sanity.

But now, Severus Snape was going to witness the most shameful time in her life. And she had let him.

_Oh Severus…please forgive me…_


	11. Chapter 11

Last chapter we left Procella laid on her bed, in the passionate embrace of Severus Snape, using the emotion to help her mind become more forth coming to his Legilimens. It worked, as her walls lowered for him, and he was drawn in.

In, to the darkness.

AN: from this point on, the memory shall be seen as if it was happening…Snape an observer unseen in the shadows as she recalls each memory. As there will be more than one.

_**First memory**_

"HA!" A young 16 year old with teary emerald eyes, messy ruffled golden blonde hair fell down to the pavement floor, holding her head in pain. The dirty puddle water seeped into her plain brown combats to her knees, and her white long sleeves turtle neck was ragged and torn from abuse. "Look at her! She looks mad!" A boy stood over her with a short brown army cut and harsh icy blue eyes laughed. "Do it again Jake." He snickered, as his best friend grabbed a fist full of her head, and snapped her head back. He had a mop of black hair, and also blue eyes.

The girl opened her mouth and looked to be screaming in pain, but no sound escaped. She had trained not to make a sound, even in the most painful situations.

Which she had had quite often.

"Scream for me Peach. Give me a squeal!" he yanked up on her hair, forcing her to stand. Tears fell down her face, as she was shoved into the first boy. "Hasn't she changed over the summer Don?" Don licked his lips at her, and smirked evilly.

She had a look of horror on her face. The two Muggle boys had tormented her often, all her life nearly, but never…they never touched upon _that_ subject. She started thrashing in his arms, as he held her to him.

"Oh look Jake! _Now_ she squirms. Oh baby, keep going!" He taunted her and breathed heavily in her hair. She whimpered, and turned her body away from him as much as she could. "You're right, she _has_ changed over the summer. I almost wish we didn't go to soccer camp for the holidays. Could have _played_ with her." She struggled harder. Beatings she could heal from and deal with. But not that…anything but that… "Well, we have a new game to play, don't we now?"

"A brand new game, what fun." They snickered together, dragging her backwards. She kicked her legs out, as they both dragged her to the back of a London pub. She heard the drone of club music in the background, pounding through the walls and perfectly blanketing the unseen commotion outside. Jake, the older of the two, pinned her to the wall and started to bite down on her ears cruelly, until they bled. She yelped and wept, putting up as much of a struggle as she could. Especially when she felt Don trying to unzip her fly.

"Hold still bitch!" Don barked, and punched her in the gut from his crouched position. It winded her, and stopped her struggling from the ain. "Good toy." He then looked up to Jake. "Swap you?"

"Nah, I like it up here, thanks." He licked the blood from her earlobe, and looked at her. The terror in her left eye was giving him a high as it was. He groaned, and nipped her jaw with no such gentle concern. He grabbed the neck of her already torn turtle neck, and tore it open over her chest. He saw her modest white bra over her milky breasts, ample in size for her age and smirked evilly. "I _really_ like it up here."

"Let me see." Jake forgot about her pants for now, and shared a look with his brother. "I take one?"

"I'll take the other." She thrashed even harder, even as Jake grasped her right breast painfully. "Time to cut the games."

Just then, there was a scream from inside the night club, and the music screeched to a stop. Jake looked behind him to the back door, and watched it creak open slowly. Don however, had his hand up her back, trying to get the bra off. "Don…"

"Just a sec. Almost got it off. Then we can play." He chuckled, but Jake didn't laugh.

"Don…"

"What?" he looked back, and saw a sight that could chill Lucifer himself.

A man, tall, stood in a hooded cloak took a strong presence in the open doorway, several others stood behind him. But they all had white masks on. "…Who the fuck are you?" The Man looked over the scene, and raised a long 'stick'.

"Oh fuck off." Jake looked back to the girl, who was thrashing with tears still pouring down her face. She then opened her eyes and saw the dark figure, a wand outstretched threateningly. She then smiled softly at him.

A wizard, one of her kind. She was saved. She saw Don was transfixed on the stick, and let go of her arm. He pricked his finger on the end of the wand, and sneered.

"A stick? What kind of a pussy uses a stick? I think you meant to pull a gun out mate." With her right arm free, she raised it and did the one thing she had sworn never to do in 10 years.

She used her powers on another living being.

Don shot forward and crashed into the pub wall, sinking to the floor. Unconscious. He sprawled out in the rubbish, his only cushion, and looked like a rag doll, in the most inhuman position.

But he was still alive.

Jake let her go, and stared at her.

"What the fuck are you!" He then pulled a knife from his pocket, and pushed her firmly against the wall. "You will fucking pay for that you whore!" He stabbed her mercilessly in the gut, and she started to lurched, finding it hard to breath with the knife lodged in her diaphragm. Dark blood internally pooled and seeped out for al to see, crimson and foreboding. "Bitch." He pulled the knife out, and was about to slit her throat, when he jerked to a stop. He looked over his shoulder, and saw he was surrounded by the hooded figures. "Fuck off. I'm busy." He spat, and turned back to her.

"Arvada Kadavra." A harsh voice spoke calmly, and the girl whimpered again, as the body of her killer, as she knew she was dead, slummed against her. All she saw was a flash of green light before he fell against her, and she cried hard. "A witch?" she opened her eyes in pain, seeing the hooded man who killed her killer talking to her. She nodded, and he raised his wand again. "Filthy muggles." He spat to himself, and pulled a vial from his robes. He shoved the corpse from her, and pulled her gentle away from the wall. "Drink." He ordered. She shakily took the vial, though he held it with her to keep it steady, and poured the substance down her throat. She managed to drink it, but her legs buckled beneath her. He was sent to the floor, as she had been holding onto him. He snarled, and snapped his head down at her. He was sat on his backside now, and she was still holding onto his chest. He raised his wand a few inches, before he saw her face. Colour was returning to it, and her smile…

Her smile was devastatingly grateful and stunning. Her lips were a fresh rose colour, her skin a milky peach, and her jaw and ear had healed up instantly. He forced himself to look down at her gut, and upon seeing no more blood or a single wound, nodded to his men. He was amazed when she asked no questions, and let Lucius grab her elbows and pry her from him.

Still she smiled like a rescued angel.

Her hair shone, even in its ruffled state in the dim evening lighting. Her emerald eye twinkled, and she pulled away from Lucius. He raised his want at her instantly, until his master raised his hand to stop him. The girl ran to him and stopped right in front of him, awe in her eyes and joyful tears in her eyes. Or eye, from what he could see. 'Thank you', she mouthed, and looked at her hands before her. She gave him a nervous look, before throwing her arms around his neck.

He stumbled slightly, shocked utterly. His men were unsure of what to do, as was the master himself. Slowly, a small smile tugged at his lips, and he held her back. This was shocking enough for his men, until he held one arm around her waist, the other hand lifted her chin for him to get a good look at her. "What is your name?" She looked around for something. She then looked back to him, and looked distraught. She held both hands over her throat, opened her mouth, and no sound came out. She then pretended to write on her hand before him. He raised a brow, and scowled. "Are you deaf?" She shook her head. "Then why won't you speak?" She held her palm up, and summoned a piece of chalk. He opened his eyes wide at this, seeing clearing that she hadn't used a wand that time. He thought she hadn't before, and until now, he doubted what he saw. She could do Wandless magic! It was unheard of!

The girl walked away from him, and started to write big on the wall.

_I'm mute. _ She lied. _My name is Procella._ "Procella. What a…individual name. Like no other." He looked her over, seeing her start to fuss over the front of her shirt, holding it together. "Do you have…any family?" She shook her head. "Friends?" Again, no. "Then perhaps…_I_ could offer you both." Procella raised a brow, and blinked at him with confusion. "I wish to introduce you to our magical family. _My_ family." He smirked evilly, formulating plans for her already, and grasped her hand. "Come." He then looked to the others. "Back to your families." He barked, and she watched them apparate. "And now, Procella." He pulled her into his arms possessively, and held her close almost…intimately. "You will come home with me. Your new master."

With a jerk, the scene faded into the next memory.

_**Second memory.**_

There was a yelp, as a girl fell forward into a room.

It was Procella, wearing nothing but a black bathrobe and crawling along the floor for dear life.

"Oh Procella, my dear. My little swan." He chuckled, and closed the door behind him. Now he wore no hooded cloak, letting her see the man beneath. The whites of his eyes were blood red, showing his recent soul splitting. But his hair was long and dark, his skin flawless, a strong jaw, dark eyes, tall, and very muscular. He was in his early twenties at the most, and looked very handsome.

Other than his eyes of course. "My elegant, graceful." He stalked up the room, Procella crawling backwards on the floor and staring up at him in fright.

It had been 3 months since he had rescued her. He brought her back here, to this maze of a mansion only Merlin knows where. At first she had been very eager in repaying him for his 'kindness'. He had after all saved her from being raped, and then healed her from being stabbed. He gave her a wonderful room to stay in, and had house elves tend to her every possible need. She did get lots of lusty looks from men in black cloaks and hoods while she wandered through the halls, but none of them touched her, as if afraid to. She had no idea where she was, but didn't really care.

She was safe and cared for, and for once, she had a friend. The very next day after being brought here, she had been introduced to her saviour. His name was Tom Riddle Junior, but he said to call him Tom.

Not that she could but she appreciated the thought. It was the thought that counted, right?

He brought her to a large dining room and dinned with her. They had a wonderful feast, and everything was either the finest food, wine, silver, gold, or gems in this place. There were Snake seals everywhere, on drapes and portraits, and even the clothes she had been given. It was strange being in robes, having travelled from place to place amongst muggles for so long. She had learnt sign language so she could get a job as a translator, until she got 'targeted' by her flat mates…

But she didn't think about that, other than when she told him about it. That was behind her now, and she was safe.

She learned that he was a very powerful wizard, as he was proud enough to tell her, and that he had plans for the Wizarding world. All valiant, she assumed in her naivety. He was her hero. Of course his cause was noble.

Then he magically charmed a gramophone to play both slow, and chipper old English dancing music. He danced very traditionally, and was very shocked when she hooked arms with him and square danced.

The guards at the door thought they would have to drag her body away any second now, but he simply laughed and asked her to teach him how to do it. He brought her books of all basic spells for her to learn, strangely encouraging her to learn all she can about her Wandless abilities. When he asked how she got them, she said (or wrote down) that she had adapted to not being able to speak, and so, no incantations, never having a wand, equals Wandless magic. Although he knew it was more than that, he accepted she knew nothing more. He even brought her into a special room where she could practice very iffy spells…she was very uncertain about using such charms and curses, but he was so supportive she just had to. She couldn't let her hero down, now could she?

He even taught her about potions, and brewing poisons like never printed in books. She started to grow suspicious when all he taught her would poison, intoxicate, influence, torture or even kill…but he had to be teaching her to defend herself. Right?

Then the spells got darker. She was blowing things up with a flick of the wrist, swelling things in size, making things literally shake apart, and shatter things to pieces. Then, she read another spell, and it was the last straw. He wanted her to learn the three most deadly curses she could think imaginable. Sure, she had never gone to a Wizarding school, but she had read the complex, intense volumes of the Riddle library, and knew more than any school could teach her. There was even a book of laws and punishments for the Wizarding world she got her hands on when he wasn't looking, and knew the spells he wanted her to do were forbidden. They were the three unforgivable curses, and she couldn't bring herself to do them.

Of course at this he got angry at her refusal to continue her defence against the dark arts studies, as he called it, and had her locked in her room for a week.

The next morning however, he had come to her door with a sincere apology, and something about missing her. He didn't pressure her to try and perform the spells for a long time, in stead eating meals with her and dancing again. Then she finally got to go outside, and he took her on a Hippogriff ride. The funny thing is, he had to cast a spell on it to make it bow to him, and let him ride it. The spell began with Im, but she didn't hear it properly. Her Hippogriff bowed before she did, and eagerly let her ride him.

This impressed Tom, and he gave her another book as a present. This one was different to all the others.

Her other books had been about potions, history of magic, DADA, transfiguration and factual books.

This one was a novel, a fictional love novel with erotic scenes that made her toes curl. She blushed at one point, when Tom chuckled from behind her. She snapped the book shut, as he had been reading with her at a very inappropriate bed scene…

However, all he said was. "Been there, done that. And it is much more interesting with silk ropes, not hand cuffs." That comment was solely to make her nervous and she didn't appreciate it. She blushed madly and didn't look at him until his laughter subsided. He apologised, and resorted to commenting on what a lovely neck she had. Long, slender, like a swan.

A month later and he was getting impatient about something, and she asked about it. He snarled at her and said it was not her place to question him. When she recoiled back, his face fell and he apologised instantly, asking her to forgive him.

He spent every day with her now, eating together, dancing, him talking about everything and anything, that _didn't_ give anything away. And then one day…

Procella sat at the vanity table in her lush room. She wore a long white medieval looking dress, with a green sash tied to one side, her hair curled over her right eye and as golden as ever. She smiled as she brushed it in the mirror. Her dress looked like a white friar robe, then make it smooth, elegant and velvet, with bell sleeves at her elbows and no hood. She wore green slipper shoes, and the rim around the V of the neck was also green.

She continued to brush her hair, content with life, when a voice spoke softly behind her.

"I will do that." She blinked as Tom took the silver snake brush with soft horse hair bristles, and summoned a chair behind her. He sat, and gently resumed brushing her hair. "Good morning." She smiled, and nodded in reply. He knew by now that meant, 'and you' or 'thank you'. He didn't mind either reply, and shuffled to sit right behind her. Today, his sleek black hair was soft and tidy (other than the flicks at the back) and he wore black and green robes. His red eyes looked to her in the mirror, and she just smiled. He then leaned forward and put the brush down. "My little swan." He lifted a lock of her silky hair, and brushed his cheek with it. "What shall we do today, mm?" she shrugged and continued to smile. "I have a suggestion." He whispered in her ear, and kissed it lightly. Procella was so shocked, she just gaped at the mirror reflection of him. He brushed her hair out the way with one hand, and dragged his teeth down her neck. "I love your neck." he whispered, eyes closed, and his hands rested on her shoulders. "You are perfect, my little swan. Perfect." He stood, and held a hand out to her. Blushing, she took it, hoping he wasn't going to do, what he actually did. Upon standing, he pulled her against him and smashed their mouths together. Procella yelped as he forced his tongue into her mouth. She brought her hands up and pressed her fingertips on his chin. They parted thanks to this, and she smiled sympathetically. She then pointed to her eye, and mouthed 'sorry'. She didn't want to cause any offence, and didn't want to hurt his feelings either. He had been so good to her. He raised a brow, and then leaned in to kiss her again. But when she leaned back out of his reach, he raised a brow in impatience. "Are you refusing me?" she nodded with an apologetic look on her face, ignoring the undertone threat in his voice. She then cupped his hands and held them before her, patting them. "Are you saying, you just want to be friends?" he looked at her severely, but she understood he would be upset. She nodded, and smiled softly, still holding her hands gentle. It might sting, but she knew he would understand. He was a gentleman, after all.

He still stared at her gone out, and then laughed almost evilly at her. "My dear, I think it is time to pop the little bubble I have let you live within during you stay in my house." He cackled, and grabbed her wrist painfully. "I have been civil." He smirked with evil mirth, and dragged her out the room. She resisted him solely because of the murderous glint in his eyes. But he was stronger than him, and she was soon thrown into a new room.

His room.

It was dark, mirroring his inner self and the sadistic look on his face, made her shudder.

This wasn't the man she thought she knew.

"You see my dear, my little swan." He began, and raised his wand at the air. "Watch this." He wrote his name leaving red wisps behind, writing Tom Marvolo Riddle. "Do you like anagrams my dear? See if you can make anything from that. You are so smart after all, I treasure that about you. You look so simple, and yet have so many delightful secrets." He pushed her forward, and made her look at the words. "I will give you a hint." He waved his wand, and some of the letters zoomed to the side to spell 'I am Lord'. "I am sure you can do the rest." He cast a silencing spell on the door, and looked back to Procella. She was whimpering and shivering in fear. "Guessed who your _courteous_ host is yet? Your, knight in shining armour?" he snickered, as he saw the realisation in her emerald eye. 'Voldemort', she mouthed slowly with fear. "Yes, I am Lord Voldemort. In the flesh." He smirked, and chuckled evilly. "Do you know, you are the most powerful woman in the world right now?" He grabbed her upper arms roughly, and chuckled against her ear. Tears were falling down her face. "You have the protection, _and_ the _attention _of the most powerful wizard there ever was. Doesn't that make you feel special?" he said slightly softer, and licked her ear lobe. He then tucked her hair behind it properly, and snaked his arms around her waist. "Procella Consensio." She gasped. "Oh yes, I know your last name. I know all about you…and your father. Or should I say, your _late_ father?" he pushed her forward until she fell back onto a bed, cowering in fear. "That was a very nice trick you did. And you didn't think I would find out about your heritage? When I have started negotiations with _your kind_? Or your mother's kind, should I say." He then pushed her down, and pinned her. "As you are no Banshee, my little swan." He groaned as he smelt her hair. "My darling little swan. Do you know why you have not been raped by my death eaters?" she whimpered. This was Voldemort, those men were his death eaters. And she was laid beneath the most evil man that lived.

He kissed the end of her nose. "Because they dare not touch, what is my property." He then straddled her, and looked down on her. "If only you had chosen me willingly. I was the perfect gentleman, was I not?" Procella was on her back, leaning up on her elbows and whimpering with tears falling down her face. He lowered his wand, and tucked her fringe away from her right eye with it. "I was good to you. I taught you what those filthy muggles couldn't dream of. I saved you from being touched by one of _them_. I saved you, for myself." He saw the fear in her eyes, and frowned. "I did everything possible for you. Gave you gifts, a safe home, protection, food, a roof over your head and a warm fire…good company…I gave you everything you could ever want." His voice was softer now, and he crawled over her. "I gave you everything. And now, I can give you so much more." He brushed his lips over her forehead. "I can give you the world. By my side you could rule it with me, my queen swan." He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Be willing my pet, I can give you everything. Anything your heart desires shall be yours. I have chosen you to be my wife Procella, and the mother of my children." Her lips opened in shock, and she leaned back. "I wish to strengthen my bloodline, with power." He purred. "And you certainly have power."

_So that is why he was so supportive about teaching me, he wanted to see if I was powerful enough to be his wife!_ "And lot's of it." He cupped her face with one hand, the other still holding his wand carelessly by his side. "And there are other reasons…" he kissed her lips gently, before she could stop him. "You are a beauty like nothing I have ever seen. And you soul is so pure, like no other. And when you smile, I feel your soul giving me peace. The closer I get, the warmer I feel. I want to feel the warmth Procella. I want to feel _your_ warmth." He kissed her with more hunger, pushing her back against the bed. "I am Lord Voldemort to everyone outside that door. But in here, with you, I can be Tom Riddle. A man I remember, when I am with you. Love me Procella, and I will give you such gifts, such joy, that you will never feel a sad moment ever again." He pleaded, and grabbed her sash. "Marry me Procella." She whimpered. "Marry me." He closed his eyes, and leaned to kiss her again. But she covered her mouth and he growled. "Why do you resist me!" he glared down at her, his grip on his wand tightening. "Have I not been good to you?" she nodded out of fright. "Have I not been kind and enjoyable company?" She nodded again. "Then why do you refuse me so!" She sat up, and pulled away from him. She hugged her knees with one arm, and drew in the air with her finger. Tears streamed down her face silently, and she waved her hand, turning the message round for him to see.

_You are Lord Voldemort._

Four words.

Four words that stung him more than any curse, any injury or any one person had ever hurt him before. "You…you mean you will not accept my love, because I am myself!" he roared. It was the most frustrating thing to ever happen to him. Another message appeared.

_I would like it if you stopped._ He didn't take _that_ kindly either. "I would not have met you unless I was Lord Voldemort!" He spat, grabbing her wrists and throwing her down. "I would not have _saved_ you if I were not Lord Voldemort. And I would have not been able to give you such things, such extravagant gifts if I were not Lord Voldemort! Doesn't that matter to you?" When she slowly shook her head, he snarled with fury. "Well, I _am_ Lord Voldemort and you _will_ be my wife." She shook her head even more, but he cackled and looked to her with a sadistic smirk. "And this is where you no longer have a choice in the matter. You are mine, forever!" Procella pushed up against his chest, and he looked down at her with a hurt expression. Upon seeing his face, she stopped resisting. He looked so rejected. "I love you Procella. That is why I have given you such gifts, my home, my hand, my love…the entire world can be ours. Because I would share it with you." He had become tender again, tracing her cheek with the same hands that had ended the lives of many. "I will not accept your refusal, and I know you will grow to love me with time." He reassured himself more than her, and kissed her cheek gently, ignoring her flinching. "You shall sleep in this bed, my bed from now on. I have watched you take another door to mine for so long, and allowed it for all this time. No longer." Procella grabbed his shoulders suddenly, and tossed him over. She then clambered off the bed, and ran for the door. She pulled on the handle, but he had magically sealed it. _Damn._ "Oh little swan…" she looked over her shoulder in horror. "You are starting to hurt my feelings." He cooed, reluctant to believe she didn't want him. He couldn't.

Procella pulled the window open, but he pulled her back quickly. "If you are warm you should have said so." He waved his wand, and summoned a breeze. "There." He chuckled, and hugged her to him. He frowned when she didn't stop struggling for freedom, and lost his temper again. He threw her to the floor, and paced, furious once more. "You should be at least civil with your fiancé!" He snarled, and pulled her to her feet by her wrists. "You will learn, oh yes, you will learn. And you will learn to love my company. To love me." He crashed his lips against hers, and everything faded…

_**Third memory.**_

"And how are you this evening Lucius?"

"Wonderful my lord." A platinum blonde headed, aristocrat Lucius Malfoy bowed before his lord in his finest robes. "I have wonderful news. Straight from our favourite potion's master."

"Oh, do tell." The master and death eater conversed on business matters, while Procella sat on the bottom step of the ladder, which was attached to the book case. They were in the library, and Procella was as far from the two as humanly possible. They were talking about their recent developments at either gaining even more support, or their latest success. And the word Hogwarts always came up some time or another.

But she really didn't listen. All Procella thought about was her plan of escape.

Tom had left her alone for the morning, sulking with her for A, not talking to him, and B, trying to run away.

Again.

Her first attempt had been to get up out of the bed the very next morning, not waking him, and running for it. Only for the door to repel her, and wake up a rather cranky dark lord. He punished her with taking her gifts away, letting her wear a plain dress and have no access to her books.

Not that she cared. All she wanted was her freedom. He had stopped shielding her from his true evil intent, _forcing_ her to be present in meetings, and usually by his side.

The only thing she could be grateful for these days, was her health, and her virginity. He kissed her, groped her, but never sexually used her. He said he wanted to keep her just perfect for their wedding night.

Something else that worried her. He was talking about setting a date for it now.

As Procella scribbled down her now memorised plan of the house, she started to think of multiple escape routes, when she heard her name. "Procella, my little swan. Come to me." He said softly to her. She frowned. He was talking so kind to her, like he was still just Tom Riddle. Not Lord Voldemort who had just been given a scroll from his death eater, with the allegiance of another pureblood family signed to their cause. "I have decided you have been punished enough for today. Come and sit with me." He still sat in the comfy chair, and held a hand out for her to take. His red eyes were still as daunting, and his black hair behind his ears.

Slowly, with a sigh, Procella pocketed her plans and held the book she had been hiding it in to her chest. As she made her way to him, her face hung forward and her eyes (one eye from his view) were closed. She didn't smile like she used to. She was no longer a guest of her hero, but a captive of her tormentor. "I see you have taken a shining to my personal favourite." He chuckled. But she hadn't really seen which book she had picked up. Just a book, just to look busy. When she looked bored, he would take it upon himself to 'keep her entertained'. She stood before him, and waited. "Medieval curses. Light reading, but good for a laugh." He then patted the thick arm of the chair, and Procella obediently sat on it. The first few times he told her to sit by him in such a way, she refused and he didn't force her.

No, instead he pulled her onto his lap, convinced that that was what she really wanted, and nuzzled her neck in the presence of his followers. When she moved away from his touch, he simple commented to his men she was shy with affection.

So she sat on the left arm of the chair to him, and felt him trace a long finger up her arm tenderly. "Did you enjoy it?" she nodded. Anything for him to stop acting so nice to her. Because she knew now it was a farce. He would get angry with her soon enough. He always did. "Then you may have it. I would prefer for you to enjoy it, then it gather dust on my shelf." He then looked to Lucius. "How is _your_ wife these days?"

"The pregnancy went well. She is recovering with our new son at Malfoy Manor."

"And a name?"

"Draco, my lord."

"Ah, yes. A strong name. he shall one day be as useful and renowned amongst our family ranks as you, I believe." He then stroked her back. "Wouldn't that be nice dear? A father and son in the business?" she nodded on autopilot. _I hope for his sake he doesn't have to be your servant. Like his father. _ She looked away. _You have no respect. Only fear._

"My Lord, if I may be so bold, may I ask when the wedding shall be? As I have been under you orders of course, looking at special venues for a protected binding ceremony."

"Wonderful." He beamed, still caressing her back. "And are all the sites secure?"

"All but three. But that leaves a choice between 7 sites, My lord."

"7. What a lucky number." He chuckled, and caught Procella off guard. He grabbed her hips and pulled her to sit across his lap. He quickly bared his arms around her waist, and held her to him. After her initial struggling stopped, he took a deep breath in her golden hair. "I believe…I can wait another month." Procella's eyes opened wide. _A month! I have a month to get away!_ She panicked, and looked around as if hoping someone would come in and save her.

She didn't want to marry Voldemort, and she certainly didn't want to have the wedding night with him. Merlin knows what he will _not_ do to her.

She unfortunately, had to listen to him telling her last night what he was _going_ to do to her. It made a lump of fear rise up in her throat at the abundance of 'toys' he had in mind.

"I shall look into this, my lord. An exact month?"

"From today. Yes, soon my love." He pulled her closer into his non-reciprocated embrace. "Soon we shall be truly married." He then gave Lucius a look, that made him hurry out of the library, closing the door behind him. She felt a finger lift her chin, and she looked back round to him. His blood red eyes drank in her face, and he smiled with delight. "My little swan. You are perfect. You are mine. And I wish to give you something." He tenderly kissed her lips, one arm curling around her, and his other hand pulling something from his robes. "We are engaged, and yet, you are missing something. I hope you like it." He whispered, and produced a dark velvet box. Procella knew what was inside it before it opened, but watched him open it anyway. Inside was a silver ring, with an emerald in the middle, and small diamond petals surrounding it. Dainty, yet very Slytherin. "Here, try it on." She didn't get chance to refuse, as he slipped it onto her wedding finger with such speed, it was like liquid. He must have thought she would refuse. "I thought you would be too modest to accept it at first, but I know you will like it." He kissed her cheek, and she turned away from him. "Still moody are we?" He sighed. "I am sorry for taking your books away, but you shouldn't run off like that. Being the fiancé of the Dark Lord makes you a target. You will need to be more careful, not just go for a walk on your own, with no one to guard you." _Go for a walk? I was running flat out down the stairs and out the back door!_ "If you wanted a midnight stroll, I would be happy to accompany you." He just refused to see the truth. Even in her O.O expression. In his mind, she loved him as much as he did her. And nothing would change his mind. Even the truth.

Procella looked down at the ring, and started to take it off. "No, it stays on." He chuckled. "I told you, don't be modest. I want you to have it." When she persisted to try and pull it off from under his hand, he slowly scowled. "This is a sign that you are my wife. This is my mark on you." But she pulled it off, and scampered out of his lap. She placed the ring respectively on the side table, and looked down.

He was angry again. It was only a matter of time. "I said, that is my mark on you!" oh yes, he was angry again. "That ring is my way of marking you as mine! My wife! That is my mark!" Procella flinched with each punctuated word…and then he chuckled darkly. "Oh I understand. You are right of course, that _isn't_ my mark." She looked up in fright, as his wand came out of his robes. In all of the 2 months she had been here from his first admitting who he was, he had never raised his wand to her. Until now. "But you _will _have my mark." The end of the wand burnt white hot. "My _true_ mark." Procella whimpered, dropped the book to the floor and backed away as much as she could. Right up against the book case.

_**Blur……**_

"Why do you run Procella? Why does my darling, little, swan run from her lover?"

_You are not my lover!_ She screamed mentally. _And you never will be!_ Procella had moved her hands over the books behind her, and found a secret passage. She ran down it, devastated when she got to the other end of the upward staircase.

His room.

Obviously Tom followed her, and locked the door behind him. He was certainly pleased to find her here.

Procella ran back into the room, her emerald eyes wide with fear, and her hands pulling anything she could get them on to make obstacles between her, and Voldemort. But he waved his wand and dispelled them all. He then grabbed her upper arms, and shoved her against the wall. "It hurts a lot less if you hold still, my love." He spat, pushing her down to the floor. He then flicked his wand, and her sleeve tore away from her left arm. He prowled over her, looking down as she cried and whimpered. He lowered to his knees, straddling up from her and looking very malevolent from her angle. The sadistic look of power on his face mixed with his blood red eyes, made him the Dark Lord she knew he was. Strange, that didn't matter before she knew who he was. She was willing to overlook that, until she discovered how many people he killed. It wasn't his looks that scared her. Only his actions. He then seemed to soften his gaze on her, and frowned. "I must mark you. No one else may ever claim you, never." He convinced himself this was the right thing, and grabbed her left wrist. True to herself, Procella thrashed against him, but couldn't pull her arm free. He then released her, to her relief, and looked at her curiously. "You are my property, like my death eaters. You shall carry my mark, like my death eaters…but you are not like them." he crawled over her, and licked her nose. "You are far more important to me. So I shall not brand you like I do them. They are expendable. _You_, are not." He then roughly fisted at the hip of her dress, and tossed her onto her front. Procella yelped and sobbed as he clawed and tore her dress open at the back, until he could see her bare peachy skin. He moaned upon seeing her bare back, and smoothed his hands over her, making her shudder. He then stroked the small of her back, and smiled to himself. "Yes, the perfect place." He shuffled down and kissed the very centre of his target place, the small of her back, just above her bum, and pulled away.

Procella dung her hands into the carpet, her teeth, and her toes as he magically burnt the mark into her skin. Tears soaked the floor beneath her, and she had to keep biting at the carpet to stop herself screaming in pain. She shivered violently and writhed under the torture. All the time, she plotted her escape, her way away from this man. she would never relent, never give in to him.

Escape.

That is what she focused on as he marked her for life.

Escape, survive.

Her very consciousness centred around those words.

Escape, survive, win.

She would win this trail she had been forced into by fate, and she would never let herself be here again.

Tonight she may be sobbing in a foetal position, in the arms of the man who had inflicted the pain upon her and weak.

But tomorrow, tomorrow was another story all together. She had her route, she had her motivation.

She was not going to be here in a month. She would escape tomorrow if she could. And if she was captured, she would try again, and again, and again. She now had a permanent reminder why she fought against Tom, Voldemort, the dark lord. It was black and green, a skull and serpent. And it would be with her forever, to keep her on the way of justice. The pain she had endured through that night changed her life. She would remember that pain, and never fall for any trick of a kind stranger again.

Dark hair, dark eyes, dark demur, dark persona, dark anything and she would be cautious.

Hell, even nervous.

And she would not make the mistake of thinking jolly bright people could be trusted either. Not unless she could see what they were thinking…

_You will never touch me again Tom, never again…_

**_End memory._**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Final Memory**_

Her heart was pounding, her breathing was so heavy, it hurt her laboured lungs to keep going on. Her legs were straining to keep running at such a speed, her skin carrying scattered cuts and gashes from either spells, or merciless branched as they whipped at her from the trees. It was dark; her vision was impaired from one eye being covered as well, and the tears that misted up her eyes didn't help her either.

She had done it.

Voldemort had held a Death Eater party in his garden, well, he didn't call it that. But Procella did. The garden was vast, with water features in the shape of dancing swans (she noticed that and wanted to cry), next to a large forest with plenty of shadows and ark places to get lost in…

There were long white tables with elegant beverages and a buffet spread for a small country. No one wore hooded cloaks today, all the finest velvets and silken robes. Procella herself wore a pair of black flat knee boots, long black Arabian trousers that hung low, just around her hips, a long baggy sleeved black top, which hung off her shoulders and _did _look like a gypsy top at first. But this top had the baggy sleeves, and was tight around her breasts. They finished right underneath them, showing off her full stomach down to her navel, and her entire back other than between her shoulder blades briefly. This also allowed the Dark Lord so show off his ownership of her, with her large dark mark bright green and black, dominating the small of her back as a painful reminder of what she would never forget.

Procella waited until he walked over to talk to someone called Bellatrix, or Bella or something like that. She was very dark looking, and wondered if she could persuade _her_ to marry Tom instead.

No, she couldn't waste her thoughts like that. She then hooked arms with long blonde hair, blue eyes and young baby in a silk green baby all in one and the dark mark stitched over his chest in her arms. She looked Procella over once, and smiled.

"Ah! At last! My husband has spoken a lot about you. He says you are the future Lady Voldemort. Is that true?" Procella just nodded, looking around them nervously. No one seemed to be concerned they were together, so she thought she made a good choice. "I am honoured." She tried to bow, but Procella stopped her. She then looked down at the baby, and her stiff nervous face softened into a smile. "Oh, would you like to hold him my Lady?" Procella looked from the gorgeous sleeping babe to his mother, and frowned. _I can't. I have to get out of here._ "Please, I would be honoured it you did." She just about begged, and thrust the baby into her arms. Procella quickly shifted him to support his head against her left breast, and he cuddled up to her. She cradled him, and her soft heart melted further. A bright smile grew on her face, and she rubbed noses with him. A happy gurgle erupted from his throat, and he opened his eyes. The brightest, bluest eyes she had ever seen shone up at her, pure untainted and innocent. It made a tear of joy fall down her cheek, and she kissed his forehead. "Oh Merlin! That is the first time he has opened his eyes!"

"Then young Malfoy is fortunate for his first sight, to be the most divine apparition in the world. To be enchanted at such a young age, is a great honour I think for him." Procella looked up, still wearing her warm soft smile, to see the blood red eyes of Voldemort. For a moment, he was stunned by her smile. "It has been too long since I have seen you smile like that." He smile too, and she almost forgot he _wasn't_ Tom Riddle. A normal, kind man who saved her. However, her back still stung and reminded her painfully just who this was. But she wouldn't snarl, scowl, or even frown. Instead, she forced the smile to stay, easily, by looking back to the only pure thing there. Little Malfoy. _I pray to Merlin himself that you do not follow the same footsteps as your father. I beg you not to._ She kissed his forehead again, and he giggled a gurgle. One tiny pale hand fisted a lock of her hair, and she chuckled genuinely. "I see I now know how to make you happy Procella." He said softly to her, and kissed her cheek. This send a shudder through her so great, she had to fight hard not to let it out. "I will make you a mother, and give you this same joy as you feel now, for all of your life." He promised her, and she was shoved back onto her mind track of 'I have to escape now!' "Come Lucius. I think Avery has some news for me of our new branch at Hogwarts."

"Yes My Lord." The white blonde man followed his master with the same air of prestige around him, and never once looked like the lackey he truly was.

"His name is Draco." The woman she now knew to be Narcissia, giggled and tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear. "I wanted to name him after my father, Cygnus. But Lucius wouldn't have it." She sighed, and smiled down at her baby. "I will bring him up to be the best pureblood wizard there will ever be. He is a leader, I can see it." Procella however, couldn't see anything more than a small baby, oblivious thankfully to what his parents did and supported in their every day lives. _Poor kid._ She thought, and looked to the mother. She gave a big smile, and offered her her arm. "Why I would love to go for a walk." She giggled like they were school girls, and Procella led her around the party twice slowly, listening to Narcissia babble about her 'perfect husband', all the time looking out for Voldemort. He never took his eyes off her, and when their eyes met, he winked at her. For effect, she winked back, and he beamed. He looked very pleased with this result, and moved his attention to his followers. She almost stopped breathing when this happened. _He…he isn't looking!_ She then dragged Narcissia off track, and into the woods. Before she could complain, she handed her back her baby, and kissed his face lovingly. "You will make a great mother one day." They connected eyes, and they shared a mutual smile. "I am still a woman. I love my husband, and I do not regret anything I have done. I never will. But…I am _still_ a woman." She bounced her baby in her arms to keep him quiet. "And I am about to fall down with my baby safely, once you have run deep enough into the woods." Procella grabbed her shoulders and gave her the biggest hug she could muster. "I have one motto in live Procella. Live for today, and make sure you have no regrets. Don't let me regret this." She then nodded, and Procella broke out into a flat out sprint.

It was a good 15 to 20 minuets before she heard an earth shattering scream. Narcissia, she knew, had just given her a signal that her vanishing act was discovered and to pick up the pace even more._ Be like you mother Draco. Please by like your mother._

And this is why her lungs ached, her legs hurt, her eyes were filled with tears and she couldn't stop.

If she stopped now, she would never have this chance again.

Procella didn't know where she was, where she was going, how to get there, or how far 'there' was. She just knew she was here, and needed to get there. Her life now depended on it. Her breath turned into mists of hot breath on cold air, like steam leaking from a steam train at its full speed, and her legs ran like the wheels of a locomotive. She couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop.

She jumped over another log, darting behind another tree, ducked under another branch. This wood seemed endless, forever keeping her from her destination in darkness.

She couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop.

She heard voices shouting in the distance behind her.

She couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop.

She felt her own blood seeping from her minor wounds and trickling down her skin.

She couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop.

Rain started to beat down through the trees and drenched her.

She couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop.

Light! Oh glorious light could be seen in her path ahead of her.

She couldn't stop, she wouldn't stop.

She was so close now, so close. There were shadows of people in the light, and they beckoned her towards them encouragingly.

She couldn't stop! She wouldn't stop!

Her heart felt like it was going to erupt through her chest and her brain explode from the pounding pressure of her pulse.

SHE COULDN'T STOP!

SHE WOULDN'T STOP!

NOT! NOW!

"IMPERIO!" Procella ducked behind a tree, but didn't stop. She pressed onward, hearing multiple voices casting spells and barking orders behind her now. But she saw the figures from the light running to the fight, to her aid? That simple thought, that hope, was all she needed to drive her onward. She ran harder, faster, until she thought she would just buckle from the pain. But she didn't. she didn't think now, she focused all her body on getting to the light, the people from the light. She knew then she would be safe, she knew she could stop then. Then, she could stop.

But she wasn't out of the woods just yet.

"Petrificus totalus!" she knew that voice. _Oh Merlin! It's him! He's found me!_ She screamed to herself, fear pumping more adrenaline through her, her need to escape growing even more. Her golden hair swept back, and she felt oddly light footed…

Procella looked down, and saw her feet weren't actually on the ground. She looked to her hands, and they were ivory pale, her nails thick black claws, and bit her own lip with sharp fangs, that weren't there before. Suddenly, she saw a blue of white over her right eye, and knew it was her hair. She clenched her eyes, and willed herself forward. She shot through the air like she was flying, like a bullet for the light at the edge of the trees and didn't slow down once. "NO!" She heard him shout darkly, as she finally felt he light upon her.

_Tired…so…very…very tired…_ and that was it. Procella crashed down like a meteorite in the open field, twisting and breaking most of her bones, one arm and both legs included, and late the sun bathe her pain and worries into the darkness now seeping at her mind…

"Albus! They're here! Like he said they would be!"

"Yes Cornelius, now duel!" she briefly heard voices of two men near her, and many more droning on in the background…but she slowly lost that sense too. The last thing she remembered, was feeling the soft grass beneath her hands. Only one could move to stroke it shakily, but she took this as a sign, a good omen.

She had escaped, she had survived and persevered.

She was out the woods, away from Voldemort and safe…

Now she could stop.

Now she would stop.

And stop she did.

Finally she gave in to the darkness of her unconsciousness, and slipped away from reality…

_**End memory**_

_**Back to the present, her room…**_

Gasping for breath, Procella snapped her eyes open and looked up into dark eyes. She shrank back into the bed and grabbed onto his arms for support at first, afraid of who it was. Until she saw the fathomless black pits of his eyes, his long curtains of black hair, his dark black robes, his pale skin…

_Severus._ Her eyes were wide open, and she looked up to see that Snape was still sat by her side and leaning over her, like he was before the memories had started. She whimpered, his face housing a look of utter shock and horror. She sobbed, and closed her eyes. _I knew it. I knew you would be disgusted._ She cried in his mind, and he sat up straight, releasing her. As he looked down at her, he didn't know what to think. So many emotions ran through his mind.

Pity, she had almost been raped?

Shock, the Dark Lord had saved her?

Outrage, he had touched her and man handled her!

Anger, he was going to rape her himself to have children with her!

Livid rage, he had even tried to cast her down before she escaped! An unforgivable on his own 'supposed' wife to be!

He wanted to strangle something, he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry hard, he wanted to brood and plot revenge.

He wanted justice, and he wanted solace. He wanted all these things, all at the same time.

Is this what she felt?

So many raw emotions spinning in his head, he felt slightly dizzy, and forced himself up to her feet.

After he made this sudden movement, Procella looked to him, sat up and sobbed softly. _Please…please don't hate me._

_Hate you!_ He spat, a lot harsher than he intended. That rage was still floating around in his mind.

_Please…_ she whimpered through the link. _Please don't tell anyone._ Suddenly, he turned on his heels and barged out the room. Procella whimpered harder, and buried her face in her pillow, needing yet another long cry.

But she was interrupted when her doors banged open again. She sniffled, and looked up.

Snape was stood in her room again, looking very uncomfortable about it. He had seen into a very personal part of her life, her struggle, her emotions, her very soul. No one had ever been that close to her, ever. He could sense that through the link they shared during the experience.

"I have a lot of stock in my store cupboard. I…have ample amounts of calming potions and dreamless sleep vials." He didn't look to her, but the floor. He couldn't look at her. He composed himself as if nothing was wrong, and added dryly. "If you are so unfortunate to need them, I suggest you do _not_ go to the infirmary for them. Poppy is a Medi witch, but never trust a potions remedy if she has brewed it. She is only barely competent." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I have a personal stock of stronger, unofficial healing salves and such potions, as we both will know why, in my rooms. My private rooms." He then cleared his throat again. "I shall alter the wards on my room to allow you access. You do not need an invitation so do not bother me or anyone else about the matter further and good day." He bowed his head quickly. "Consensio."

_Procella!_ She called to him, before he could even get through the door. _Please call me Procella._ He slowly turned to look at her. Her golden hair was a mess, her alluring clothing still as alluring, her eyes still misty from tears…but her scarlet lips were in a soft smile. Snape couldn't help but think, I see why the Dark lord was ensnared by her…he must have seen her smile…

_Very well, Procella. And you will call me Severus…in private._ He added sternly, and turned his back to her. _Good day, Procella._

_Thank you for being so wonderful._ He stopped again, but didn't let himself turn to look at her.

…_good day._ He couldn't leave quick enough, and stormed straight to his rooms. After that, he needed a drink. Good thing he had a few free hours before lessons…

AN:

I am sorry if this is a little short, but I had to end it here so the next chapter is a decent size.

Well, if you review, I will update! And update faster the more I get!

Lol,

Well, I hope you enjoyed it!

From

Draguna


	13. Chapter 13

It was once again the weekend, and time to get out of bed. Procella groggily yawned, and stretched off. It was strange, she thought. After her 'share session' with Snape, she expected a lot of things.

One was his utter anger at not being informed of her past, as it was _very _much need-to-know information for _him, _being a spy for the Order and all. As reluctantly as she appeared to believing otherwise the day before…

Second, his insistence that she tell everyone about it. Something responsible as 'it is your duty as a professor to inform the headmaster of this in detail, as it will no doubt shine a light on the previous movements of the Dark Lord, and bring relevant information to light.' Strangely enough, he didn't act the least bit responsible, and didn't even mention what he had seen. He _did_ look al little shaken up…but didn't say anything about it. All he did was give her permission to use his calming and dreamless sleep potions. And that could be for any reason, she thought. And he _did_ say Madam Pomfrey was barely competent at potion brewing. Perhaps he wanted to state his expertise over the Medi-Witch, or seem superior to someone else.

Again.

Thirdly, some sort of pity. After what he had experienced, seen, felt through her, as potent as the day they were 'made'…she thought he would at least show some concern. But he just looked outraged and scowled furiously. So at first, yes, she thought he was angry. And she believed it even more when he stormed out of her room.

_But he came back. He came back, and gave me his…services?_ He had also given her a free pass into his private quarters at any time she wished. He said he would lower his wards for her, so…was that his version of a welcome mat? Or an invitation?

Again, the sun beaming through the window glared at her and made her think back to the matter at hand.

Getting her ass, out of bed.

Again, she yawned and scratched the back of her head as she walked into the bathroom, for a much needed shower. She showered, washed her hair, wrapped it in a towel, wrapped another towel around her body, brushed her teeth, and washed her face. By the time she entered her room again, there was a big smiling face waiting for her.

Nymphadora Tonks, sister of Bellatrix Black and Narcissia Malfoy, had her short bubblegum pink hair spiking out enthusiastically, a 'Weird sisters' shirt with dark purple long sleeves, and the main body of the shirt a lighter purple. She also wore the two purples as stripy tights, flat heel witch boots with purple laces, and a knee length dark purple bustle skirt. It looked like a straight dark purple skirt at first, but had lighter purple layers 'bustled' up at the back, in the fashion.

…_You look like one of the students…_ her eyes were wide, and she snorted quietly in her mouth. Tonks narrowed her eyes at her playfully, and folded her arms. It was then Procella noticed she also had the dark purple lipstick to match, and her nails were painted this colour too. _Was this a result of your metamorphic power?_

"Yeah…and good morning to you to." She huffed, and then looked her over. "Breakfast isn't _too_ far away you know…"

_I will just get dressed then._ She chuckled, and walked over to her wardrobe. It opened with a flick of her hand, as she dried her hair slightly with the towel on her head. _And than you for coming to see me. It's nice to see you._

"Well, you _did_ look a little…different yesterday. But the way you looked dress wise, rocked!" Tonks then jumped up, and bumped up next to her, examining her wardrobe. "I liked your style yesterday…made plenty of guys drool."

_I was in a…state yesterday. But I will dress normally again, I assure you._

"Not if _I_ have anything to say about it!" Tonks took her hands, led her to the bed, and sat her down. "Stay, sit." Procella pouted comically as Tonks attacked her wardrobe. "I just had a WICKED idea!"

_oh boy…_

"Hay! Jeez, be a little more enthusiastic why don't you!" Procella chuckled, until she saw the gleam in her dark eyes and the wand in her hand.

Aimed at her. "Ready?"

_No._

"Well…too bad!"

_She should have been here by now…_ Severus was sat at the teachers' table, awaiting Albus to arrive.

Him, and two other members of staff…one being someone he couldn't care less about…the other the Wandless magics professor. He had to use one of those sleeping droughts on himself to get to sleep last night. Images of what he had seen in her mind kept playing in his head, demanding his attention. He, yes, Severus Snape was at a loss at how to conduct himself now. That woman had been though a lot, not as much as he had, but still more than anyone else he could think of. Even Albus in a personal sense. Albus had never been in the position for the Dark Lord to pressure him into doing anything he wanted, or more often than not, _forced_ to bend to his will.

_But Consensio has._ Right now, whether she knew it or not, she was the closest thing he had to someone else who understood the strain, the mental anguish and physical stress of maintaining your own freewill and sanity around the Dark Lord. He had at many times in his long life, stopped and thought if it was worth it. If it was just easier to give in to _him_ and do as he wanted. It wasn't as hard as resisting him, and his orders.

I mean really, what was another dead Muggle to him? He had killed many before even thinking twice about his role, so why stop now?

He did stop, and he stopped because he was strong enough to stop. Others around him were weak, and killed to 'stay safe'. He was not, and prided himself on his resolve, his peace of mind, and strength.

_But she had that strength too, she persisted until the very end. She resisted the Dark Lord, never gave into him, not once. _

_Unlike myself…_ he growled, and then just sighed. He hadn't joined the Dark Lord and become a death eater solely to bring him down like he did now. In the beginning, he had done it loyally, served him loyally…and killed for him loyally, without question.

No, the questions only occurred to him later on, when he was alone at night, truly dawning upon the magnitude of his choice…his damnation.

And then, only then, did he have the strength to go on, and not continue down that path of suffering. _Only to take a different path of pain._ It wasn't easy to get where he was now, and now was no easier than before. But he knew his place, his purpose and was in a way, in control of his own life now. A life, he didn't have before. _If you can call this a life._ He sighed again, and looked up. _Isn't that damned fool here yet? Where is he? Giving out lemon drops to first years?_

As if on cue, he at last entered the hall.

But he didn't come in alone. _Great, the putrid pink aura fairy of the Order rejects is grinning like a fool again._ He rolled his eyes, and stopped in mid action.

Because a third person followed them.

"And I shall be announcing the upcoming Valentine ball next month, on your behalf?"

"That is just great Headmaster. And my other proposal? I saw Professor McGonagall this morning and she has approved it."

"Then I shall also." Tonks then grumbled and looked to her other side. Her arm was hooked ridged around her friend's arm, and she had to _drag_ her out of her room.

_I can't believe you did this to me!_ Procella looked down, noticeably away from the head table, and shied behind her. "Procella, come on. You look great!"

_I do not look great!_ Procella pulled her arm back, and stomped her foot like a child.

It was then, all eyes zoomed across the hall to focus on her.

Including the dark ones of the potion's master.

"You _do_ look great, red really suits you!" But Procella wasn't listening. Her emerald eye was frozen towards the table, locked with a blank faced Professor Snape.

Red high heel shoes, secretary semi transparent black tights, a thigh high red dress, soft, clung to every voluptuous curve of her body, held her breasts tight, had thick straps off her shoulders, leaving her upper arms, neck and cleavage bare for all to see. Her scarlet outfit matched her lips, which were now slightly parted in shock, her golden hair curled over her right eye and bouncing with life, and red eyeshadow on her eyelids, which faded out the closer it got to her perfect blonde eyebrows. Her eyelashes curved up with mascara, and she had a red handbag slung over one shoulder. "Hay, Snivellus is looking at you. Strut your stuff and make him drool. I bet you can do it." Tonks whispered in her ear cruelly. Procella didn't look away, but shuck her head. "Oh go on. Go for the kill, that is what we women are good at."

_I…I can't move!_ Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she held her hands by her sides. _I hardly look appropriate for breakfast!_ "Oh come on. We are off to Hogsmede for a _real_ day out today. _That_ makes it appropriate. Now sashay your ass over there, and stun him!" before she could complain, Tonks pushed her forwards, and gave her little time to compose herself. In the end, Tonks had to hook her arm again, and draw her attention from Snape. "Anyway, Albus said he will make that announcement for us we were talking about."

_Really? Are you sure about this?_ Her plan had worked. Procella wasn't looking at Snape anymore, and walking fluidly and normally once more. Tonks had to resist smiling when she naturally swayed her hips in the alluring dress, and chuckled over a joke about getting Minerva to pull Albus' strings for the dance. "I go my separate way here, see you after breakfast." _Good bye._ They waved off, and Procella kept her show stopping smile, until she turned. She was now facing Snape, stood right in front of him with only the table between them.

Everything was so different now. He wasn't just the man who had scared her and made her feel nervous from the moment she first got here. He was Professor Snape now, and had a hold on her. He had seen into her mind, her soul, felt what she had felt. He had a piece of her in him now, and knew her better than even Tonks did. _But he probably doesn't see it that way._ She thought, the link between herself and Tonks terminated for the time being. She didn't want to transmit her thoughts, after all.

Snape had been gob smacked from the moment he first saw her enter the hall in _that_! _There should be a law against things like this…_ He had watched her shocked expression, showing him clearly this _wasn't _her idea. _That powder-puff fairy's no doubt._ Then when she swayed her hips, and her hair bounced with each step…he gripped at his knee under the table, and couldn't stop his eyes from drinking down her perfect body down to her…

It was then he forced himself to look up, glad his face had been blank and hiding all his _real_ thoughts from everyone.

And here she stood, looking down at him as if expecting a reaction.

"Good morning, Consensio." He nodded, and looked down the table at Albus, seemly dismissing her. He heard a relieved sigh, and heard her move. He looked down into his knife, and saw her reflection. Procella sat in her chair, pushed herself in, and also looked down to Albus, who stood.

"Good morning, good morning. Yes, indeed it is." _Another sensational speech to come I see…_ Snape looked bored already. "I will keep this short for all you ravenous students…and teachers." He looked down the table, and winked to Snape.

Well he was bloody furious!

_What the hell did that old fool mean by that?_ He kept the façade of calm however, and sat back in his chair, as if ignoring the blatant attempt to insinuate something…"As you will already know, there has been a larger request for regular balls for the holidays and celebrations. This request has been granted, and the first of which shall be the St Valentine's Day ball on the Tuesday the 14th." Manly the girls, but some boys started a murmur excitedly, and died down when Albus raised a hand. "Now, as you will have seen, there has been a notice about a unique poetry competition has been posted on your common room notice boards. On it, are the times and other details of the ball, other than the newest addition." He cleared his throat, and looked down the table to Tonks. "A resident Aura, and the heads of houses, and possibly some of the other teaching staff, will rotate duties of supervising ball dancing lessons." Procella smiled, but looked alarmed when she saw Snape clench his fists on the table so tightly, his knuckles didn't just look white.

They looked like they were going to burst through his skin.

_Oh of course._ She thought. _He is the Head of Slytherin. He will have to take the dance lessons at some point…oh…_ she came up with an image of Snape with a rose in his mouth, twirling around in the hall in an Italian shirt and dance trousers. She chuckled, and gulped when Snape span his head towards her, and glared furiously.

_You forget, Consensio, we still have a sufficient mind link to share thoughts AND images._ He spat at her mentally, making her shrink back in her chair. She looked down, and was grateful when Albus spoke again. "The first session shall take place tomorrow afternoon in the same hall where the Yule ball took place. The lessons shall be split into house pairs." _Please sweet mother of Merlin no! Albus, don't you dare!_ Procella chuckled, but was silenced again with a quick glare. "And so, tomorrow the Heads of Gryffindor." _Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin._ "And Slytherin will teach their students of all years." Procella suddenly saw an image of Albus being throttled by Snape, and gulped. Those certainly weren't _her_ thoughts… "So obviously, Professors McGonagall, and Snape will lead that lesson. For those houses, they shall take place Sunday afternoon, Monday evening, and Thursday afternoon. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw shall have the same arrangements with their heads of houses, on Tuesday afternoon, Wednesday evening, and Saturday morning. All times are now on your common room notice board." He beamed, waved a hand, and food appeared all over the hall. "Now that has been said, please, eat." He sat down, and chuckled to Minerva.

"Albus, do you realise Severus is trying to kill you with his glare again?" She chuckled with him.

"I fear, I expected no less, my dear. I would not be surprised in the foggiest, if I were to also receive either a very controlled letter or confrontation from our potion's master, before the day is though on the matter."

_Bastard!_

_Snape! That isn't very nice…_

_I am not a very nice man._ He grit his teeth, and turned his glare to Procella. One look at her state of dress, and he snarled. _And is that any way to present yourself? Hormone levels from the pimpled teens discovering puberty are already a handful to handle, without you parading yourself around like a common whor-_

Snape stopped himself. But it was too late. The look of hurt already flashed over her face, and she looked away from him to her plate. He sighed with frustration, and wished he could just go straight to his rooms.

He started to serve himself some toast, and saw her get the same. He growled. _I am angry._ He stated. Procella looked up from buttering her toast, and looked to him.

_I accept your apology._ She then quickly added before he could stop her. _And I assure you, this was not my idea._

_The human Nymph? _He spat, and raised a brow at her. She frowned softly.

_Don't call her that please. Her name is-_

_Do I look like her name is any interest of mine?_

…_no I suppose not…_ well that killed the conversation. She shuffled uncomfortably, and crossed one leg over the other, knee on knee. She pushed her hair behind her, not wanting to get food on it, and took a bite out of her toast.

_Humph._ She heard, and looked over to him. _Trying to woo someone, are we?_ He said rather coldly…

_No. why would you ask?_

_You look like a-_

_This isn't my idea!_ She found herself screaming at him, swallowing her food quickly and looking as defiant as she could, with her nerves. She was still very jumpy around him. And he _still_ made her nervous…

_I highly doubt you simply stood there and had no choice in what clothing you were dressed in._ he rolled his eyes at her, and drank from his goblet.

_Actually, that is rather close._ She looked away from him. _I sat there as she waved her wand at me. Then she wouldn't let me change, and dragged me down here. So excuse bloody me if I look like a whor-_

_You should have told her not to, with that meagre link of yours. _

_If that would have worked, do you think I would look like something you would pick up in a back alleyway?_ They locked eyes, and for a moment didn't look away.

_You don't look that bad._ She blinked at him surprised. Did he just…give her a compliment? She opened her mouth as if she was going to question him, when her arm was hooked, and she was dragged unceremoniously from her chair.

"Well, sorry to interrupt you two…no wait. I'm really not." Tonks looked challenging at him, and put her free hand on her hip. "This time, don't follow us on the train, jump out, and chase Procella down a street."

_He followed you on the train?_ "Oh yes. And it seemed he was looking for someone, or you, from the moment he got on it." Procella then looked to Snape, who had also heard her mental thought. But he didn't bother to explain himself. "Now, if you _don't_ quite mind." Tonks led the way, and let go of her blonde friend. This gave her time to pick up her bag, and catch Snape's eyes on her.

_Don't stop breathing this time._ He stood up, and brushed himself off. _I will not be there to force you to take breath this time._ He said curtly, and stood in front of her.

"You are in my way. Move, _please._" He didn't sound like he meant it, which he probably didn't, and she blushed. Before she could stop herself, her hand rose to her lips and touched them in memory.

He had given her mouth to mouth, and kissed her to enter her mind though passion… Snape's eyebrow shot up from the mental images he just got of himself, on her bed, kissing her. It was a thought of a memory, but he was still…intrigued? Maybe not, maybe just…curious. Upon seeing _his_ facial expression change, she gasped and quickly turned on her heel. She walked as fast as she could to her friend at the door, but was stopped with a hand on her arm. Slowly she turned, and looked immediately to the strong pale hand on her bare arm.

Skin on skin.

The strangest feeling came from this, unlike all the other times. She wasn't…scared this time. Did this tingling mean she was nervous anymore? Or not? "Your bag, Consensio." She looked up, and saw her red handbag in his other hand. "I have no time to deal with lost items, I _do_ have better things to do with my valuable time." He droned, and raised a brow. She hadn't moved. "Consensio?" finally, she took the bag from him, albeit slowly, and gulped.

_Thank you._ She nodded her head, and turned to leave. But he hadn't let go of her arm yet… "It seams, as you are the future head of Gryffindor, we shall be teaching that _ridiculous_ dance together tomorrow afternoon." He snorted. "Whoever came up with _that_ 'smart' idea surely needs to _think_ before they propose such preposterous time wasting activities. How absurd, teaching students how to 'dance'. I for one, have more important things to do, such as actual _work_." He rolled his eyes, and sneered. When he heard no reply, he looked down at her. She had her green eyes looking away (although he could only see one), with a sad frown on her face.

…_it was my idea…_ he raised his head slightly, not sure what to say next. How would _you_ continue from such a dead end? He had the aim of talking with her, having a _conversation_…how did it go so wrong so quickly? Is this how the Weasley boy felt? He always seemed to put his foot in his mouth.

Not, that Snape had put his foot in his mouth, of course. _And you are still holding my arm…_ this time she was blushing, but the frown didn't vanish. He looked to where he held her arm, and looked at it with as much confusion as she had originally. It was odd. He had felt perfectly comfortable with his hand on her, and hadn't even realised he had done it. Probably fro, habit. He was used to having to grab her by now…

Snape released her eventually, and cleared his throat. "Consensio." He nodded, and began to walk towards the door. Only for Procella to walk next to him, and he looked around the hall. All eyes were on them, the dark spectre from the dungeons, and the heavenly Greek goddess with legs like a deity… He was so glad he had closed his mind to her from the moment he cleared his throat. _Where the hell did those thoughts come from?_ He was puzzled, and didn't even realise what he was doing. They reached the door, and he opened it. He was still puzzled by something, or deep in thought to outsiders, as he stopped and held the door open.

_Oh, thank you professor._ He then sapped out of his thoughts, and realised what he had done.

He had just opened the door for her.

Like a gentleman.

Like, a sodding, gentleman!

He mumbled something incoherent, but a type of acknowledgement, before following her out. There, he saw Lupin and Tonks waiting for her.

"Ready to go? I can't wait to have a female opinion after all thee years of Aura service on an outfit!" he laughed, as if she had made a joke, and Remus chuckled too.

"And I have made it my day's aim, to take you into Madam Puddifoot's café. She does the best coffee you could ever imagine." He chuckled again, innocently.

But a brooding professor scowled angrily again. Having to be the one to stop students from 'shenanigans' after hours in dark classrooms, he knew just what that café was for. It was for couples, mostly students, but knew that over the years courting teachers had gone there too. He clenched his fists at his sides, and was as of yet, unnoticed by the three stooges, as he called them.

Though Procella didn't really count as a stooge… "Nymphadora was the one to introduce me to it."

"Well, I had been there when I was younger you see." He blushed, especially when Procella smirked suggestively at her. "SO." She struggled to gain control. "We shall be going then? Unless you have any business to finish up?"

"Actually." Snape screamed at himself. _What the name in Circe are you doing?_ "I had failed to inform Professor Consensio, that she had yet to hand me report."

"Report of what?" Procella knew just what he was talking about, from the way he gave her a quick, but discrete glance. But he hadn't asked her to write one for it…

"Staff chores are not any relevance of the resident child coddlers."

"Why you rude son of a b-"

"I suggest." He cut her off. "You reframe from using such course language in the presence of children." He nodded towards the slowly leaving students from the hall behind them, with a smirk.

"OOoo!" Tonks seethed. Lupin decided to interrupt.

"Then perhaps she could either owl, or have the report sent to you when she returns." Remus reasoned. But Snape smirked cruelly.

"That is to assume, the good professor has actually _attempted_ the report yet. Have you, Consensio? Do not lie to us now. I happen to be a skilled Occlumist, Ms Tonks is an Aura, and Lupin a grown Marauder. He has grown up with liars." He smirked even more, his fathomless eyes twinkling with evil mirth. Lupin looked furious at the insult to his friends, Tonks ready to throw a gasket, and Procella scared out of her wits. She took a deep breath, and then shuck her head. "Ah, like I thought. You choice in company is _clearly_ having an adverse affect on your priorities."

"Now see here Severus." Lupin stepped between Snape and the girls. "If it is that much of a problem, surely she can do it when she returns."

"No. I am _very sorry_, but alas, it can't be helped. I simply _must _have the report on my desk in an hour. And that is an impossible feat with Ms Consensio off the premises." He then turned his this-cat-got-the-cream smirk to Procella, and folded his arms confidently. Like he had won some kind of game, a prize. "I fear, you will have to come to my office and write out the report immediately." He said as if it was enjoyable to simply say.

"Oh you bastard!" Tonks spat, and pushed her sleeves up. She then started to charge towards him, when Procella hooked her arms under her shoulders. "Let me go! I will give him something to smirk about!"

"Not here, Nymphy." Lupin sighed, knowing he was defeated for now, and ran a hand through his tawny brown hair. But as a 'grown marauder', and making the memory of James and Sirius proud, he began to formulate a vengeful plan. All while smiling innocently. He sighed, and took the still furious Tonks from Procella. He wrapped his arms around her, as she was still hell bent on scratching his eyes out. When she was transferred safely, Lupin looked to Procella with a frown. "Looks like we can't save you from this one old girl." He gave her a sorry smile, and she nodded to him with a 'thanks anyway' smile. Lupin dragged Tonks off, but not before Procella stopped them and looked with an impish smirk to Tonks. Snape raised his brow at what he mentally heard.

_Look at it this way 'Nymphy'_ (smirk grew)_, you get to go to a lovely little café, alone, with Remus Lupin. Oh however will you survive it?_

"That is just so-OOoo! I will get you for that later!" Procella chuckled and waved them off. She then watched them leave, and sighed happily. Her eyes left the door, and she looked down at herself. _Now I guess I really look inappropriate. Walking around Hogwarts like this isn't a great example to set, or a fair impression to give._ She then blushed. _ And I can hardly go down into the dungeons dressed like this. What would Snape think? _

Procella chuckled to herself, and turned to Snape. Unknown to her, he had heard all of that.

_Does she think she is dressed too good for my dungeons! We shall soon see to that! _

"Come, follow me."

_Shouldn't I change first?_ She walked with him until they were in the great hall, and she didn't follow him to the dungeons. He then stopped, and glared at her. "I _think_ you have wasted _enough_ of my time for one day, don't you?"

_But you never asked me to write you a report._ She frowned, seeing 'no' wasn't an option. He then walked back to her. "What is wrong Consensio? Would you much rather be in a romantic, suffocating café with Wolf boy? Rather than my cold, foreboding dungeons?" he grabbed her wrist roughly, like he was used to, as was she by now, and led her down into his dungeons.

_Oh great. I am dressed like a horny angel, alone, with Severus Snape, locked in his dungeons, HIS realm, for Merlin knows how long. What is this really all about? Why would he want me to do a report, when I didn't do anything? He didn't ask for a report-he doesn't need one! He is the spy, not me. I don't report to Albus, or the order. So I don't do reports to them either!_ She started to panic as he took her down into the lower, chillingly colder levels of the dank dungeons. _Why is he bringing me down here, when he doesn't need a report, and insisting I come right now!_ Before she knew it, she was thrust into his office, his wards having accepted her, like he promised, and the door clicked behind her. _Oh Merlin…the door just locked. He's locked me in here with him, in his office!_ She span round, and saw Snape. He was leaning with his back against the door, his arms folded, and smirking darkly at her. A lump suddenly rose to her throat, and she gulped loudly to swallow it. _Oh Merlin. What have I just walked into?_


	14. exam notice

Hello

Draguna here, and I have some bad news for any of my story patriots.

My GCSE's are coming up, and I need the time off for much needed intensive revision for those oh so desired A to A results I aim for ., and then the actual month of them. But I will have a series of updates to most of my stories all waiting for you on the 30th of June.

And a whole new story or even two from the looks of things. In two different categories.

So, please don't be too upset with me for a while, I will get back into full swing for ages and ages after my exams, with more funny, adventurous romantic fun!

And dark, in most cases.

Well, over and out for now.

This is Draguna, wishing Exams and Examiners didn't exist pouts and will miss writing for a while. I am hanging up my wireless rooter for now, and getting the tests over and done with.

Then I have ages for writing! Yay!

Well, see you later everyone, have fun!

From

Draguna


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